Savanna

And at first I pictured

the impenetrable heat of lands

long wasting beneath the eyes of

an angry astral god,

Unloving—casting pieces of skeleton carelessly

like fishing line

Ripples moving rapidly across her parched

body, running from the scorching winds

And then her face Became.

Signs of life moved in her

and her eyes were the flavor of inescapable joy,

her mouth uttered poetry that begged the

worship of the God who scorched her skin,

and a reserved defiance

would silence the flinging of bones

and summon trees from the depths of a hardened earth

and water would flow freely

to tongues that had once been too parched to speak.