The Dust Chokes Our Eyes

Does the well run dry?

Do the green vines cease

dipping into the Springwine?

Will the dust choke our eyes

and render clear sight blind?

Perhaps, it will, if we fail to

try.

Just an inch deeper lies

a fountain, fresh,

flowing

to renew our lives.

Cup your hands,

let them bleed, if you must,

but cup them

like shovels and

dig that last

inch of dirt.


© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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