The Wind, Too Sterile and Dry

The wind in violent groans
ravaged the cityscape
yet no rain clouds arrived
across the empty sky
to wash away the scars
left by the day’s cruel sun.

Crowded structures, tall and the ground
in fear of the tempestuous wind
shook against my cold, anxious skin
like pulses from a throbbing heart.

With no rain however
we cannot multiply,
nor can we cultivate
with no shades to hide.

In the end when dawn arrives
to blaze on the overcrowded place,
the city lies too spent from a fear, dazed
by the vicious wind, too sterile and dry.

2 thoughts on “The Wind, Too Sterile and Dry

  1. This poem has a great feel
    So my thoughts it did congeal
    With your beautiful words
    As you did reveal
    Your symphony in steel
    My mind loved every nuance
    That you did advance
    With complete excellence .
    Bon chance .


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