Gulch
no water.
stones guzzle
liquid heat.
roots
of shade nuzzle feldspar
on banks of baked soil
tall as epochal ruts.
no water. ghosts
of buffalo
drink from long gone lakes.
they graze on husk-crisped hillocks,
wary of giant cats
who are also trapped here forever.
to shuffle along this river of sand
is to suffer implacable grudges,
the legacy of a dynasty of floods,
cut upon cut upon cut
which expose and taunt
the tantalized dead.
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6/14 ... mods
6/1 "suffer" replaces "summon"
6/1 .. fixed typo a few hours after posting
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