Today’s poem for Paul Brookes’ challenge. You can see the images here.
beyond this dull day
of coming winter, parched grass
still brown, browner leaves fallen,
to the times when spring will not heal
this cracked and broken land,
blood and sap no longer course, rise,
bones snap like brittle branches.
When the earth sighs,
the life that once teemed dies,
will clouds still roll across the skies
in battleship grey like today?
for a thousand billion friends.