the oaks
once again a black scribbling
scrawled across gray sky
nearly all the words exhausted
unspoken promises
but grackles flying off
great vessels of dark clouds crowded out stars
dead brown leaves poured out from their bellies
locusts eating what was left of the very little that had been real
a sisal sack split unraveled
weight of hope spilled out
dry kernels of stale corn that even mice abandoned
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