Desert earth
sandy, dry down as deep as you can dig.
An arid sea of thorns and spines;
creatures that bite and sting
. . . abiding.
Everlasting thirst.
Even after a cloud burst,
the yearning begins again.
Only a watery appetizer,
never the main course.
I know that craving,
desire, yen, languishment,
always inconsolable for what
will never be.
Wow! Beautiful ( poem and pictures). Great turn
LikeLike
Yes, beautiful poem, I’m thirsty reading it, and then… the end. Yes.
LikeLike