I dream,
Of a wasteland,
Of scattered mesas,
Blackened to white.
A landscape charred,
To a dust fine,
A palate of grays,
Blown adrift, aflight.
There are here yet,
Diamonds in the dust,
And hidden in the shadows,
Cane amidst the dirt.
Sour fruit fresh palate,
This bitter a nectar,
Never had I tasted,
The sugar amidst the ashes.
*** Cover art by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash.
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