Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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We walk through the ruins
where we once lived, having
rejected the better word
to sit here in stubble fields
and broken stones, bones
turned up, dry waiting the day
we die or the harbingerís winds
of mercy, gathering clouds
heavy, to bring rain and
new life to our parched land.

© Jan G. Otterstrom F. June 8, 2014