Seasons

The sky, a clear blue, stands above our heads
It has always been up that we look, we think
As the clouds gathered, ready for heavy rains
As the cold froze our bodies; flesh and blood
As the lands flooded with both life and death
And now, as the sun that cracks through it,
The sky, making barren this earth that we till
We look, eyes charred, like our hands and feet
We look, believe, and pray for a sign from above


Poetry Wednesday is live😍 a few more posts are coming up, then the Collection. See you!😊

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Photo by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash

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