Friday, April 29, 2016

NaPoWriMo # 48


Drought


In a tree with three branches,
heaven unwinds its sea,
placid and without islands.
A group of country houses
is renewed at the same time
as dust of ghost.  A chameleon
shivers all night like a gush of
underground water. An almond
is the plain, a fire of souls.

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