living in lonely crevices
thirsty as the arid plain
baked brown and broken
gasping and turning blue
water at the cusp of a hand
stolen by the scorching sun
cannot lament, cannot cry
tears that roll down
carried by the winds of El Nino
would be lost in the mirage
as they lay down motionless
pondering upon the blue sky
looking for hovering gray clouds
and await the first summer rain
to sprout and show its greens
covering the once barren land
color the world with flowers abloom
with each life laughters and smiles
though it is almost June
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