Skip to main content
Author
The belching ghost-wail of the locomotive
trailing her rattling wooden tail
into the jazz-band sunset.

The mountains in a row
set pinnacles of ferocious isolation
under the alien hot heaven

Vegetable cripples of drought
thrust up the parching appeal
cracking open the earth
stump-fingered cacti
and hunch-back palm trees
belabour the cinders of twilight. ...
Rate this poem
Average: 3 (9 votes)
Reviews
No reviews yet.