Cracked snails on the pavement
ending trails
That never led nowhere
Since they were led by thirst

Thirst for a new spring rain,
New blossoms that will melt-
And children, so many children-
These promises are never meant to be kept.

Yet we make them
Draw them on muddy waters with humid sticks
'Cause it's spring.
The drought will kill them all
A bit later

Right now we're busy dreaming big

Of sunburn

Sisypha

I carried Sisyphus back to the roots of her valley
Then pushed the boulder down some forgotten alley
Her task is to now sleep despite the constant fear
That she might lose the one once held near.