Silent Sweet

what’s to say
with a silent opening
where two lines converge
and join, kissing
enveloping one another
devouring the other
what’s to say
when all lines have been crossed
where the marigold’s are all pruned
and our crops have been all picked
and the dessert wind stretches across
scorched earth
dry bones
wilting grass
fossilized remains of a carcass
where the sun yawns a drawn out morning
and falls asleep without good night
where these foxes with eggs in their mouths
steal away in comfort and serenity
tip toeing away to the twilight
before their mothers awake
stricken with grief
They cry

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