The rusted water puddled in places, and where it puddled it dried into drifts. Sweeps of muddled red dirt from far-off distant deserts lay on every pavement, pooled between the cobblestones, gathered on windowsills and clung to window glass. It haunted the city for weeks, like the echoed calls of phantom desert dogs, prowling with the dry.
Tag: desert
But By Then It Was Too Late.
We were zebra in the dry-season
grasses scented on the air
trecking the desert
searching
dry.