Assay
An uprooted tree lies ebbing in the street.
The one who pledged everyone with a refuge
is herself in exigent need.
People come, see the fallen one.
Not a soul seems to be concerned.
Zero, zilch, nada, none.
They don't remember
those cloistered, sizzling infernos of June
those solitary, shivering nights of witchy new moons
and those
sodden, sultry volleys of pouring monsoons
...
Friday 27th December 2019 10:04 pm
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