Some places shrink in Summer,
cracks, like open sores
scream patterned protests,
and dry winds whistle pain
in ever increasing pitch
as they sweep the plains,
trapping seeds and tiny corpses
within miniature canyons.
Some places just shrug,
live happenstance lives
in shady groves
above subterranean rivers,
as they suck life
in effortless gulps.
Welcome to The Tangled Branch! Join us.