Posted by: Ron DuBour | November 6, 2017

Drain me~by Peter Forster


 

 

Drain me

Drain me
Take my waters
Bleed me dry
I am parched
My old bed rumpled
With the bodies
Of beached whales
A desert
Pockmarked
With humpbacked
Sand dunes
A moving landscape
Never still enough
To capture
Proving treacherous
To the weary traveller
Slipping precariously
Beneath the feet of the unwary.
I bring houses down
Whole civilisations
Lie beneath
The turnover of such aged dust
Beware my green belt
It is a girdle
Binding me together
It has become stretched
And worn
Deeply decayed
With cracks and fissures
Spidering the surface.
How loosely I am bound
The frayed cords come undone
I am unthreaded
Unravelled
Pull and I will peel
Wrinkled skin
Exfoliated dermis
Dropping away
Waiting for the cleansing
To rinse my last vestige.
Leave me out
In falling rain
Blossom me
A revived environment
Would suit
Such a vivid request
Inventively
Festooned with fresh fruit
Running
With well sprung water
Ready
For the new bloom
Of a brightened day.


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