Upon the mountains crest
shadows yet to rest
the breath of summer
now fallen
springs eye still close
for dry winds parch
the flowers heart
the dust rises
Its hoards move to crush the sky
rolling rising thunder
great the wall
biting stinging
in the darkness of its night
Vivid images here, Keith! It's funny, too, because I live at the ocean's edge, so nothing much is dry around here. But I actually became thirsty reading this. Now THAT'S some vivid poetry!
