Napa Valley

The snake dry airBlowing from the distant desertThe barren sterile hillsBlackened by the scarsOf the summer firesSkeletons of treesHanging from the skyBlue to the point of achingOf being sore in the eyesEven the lakeHaunted by the Zodiac killerIs desiccatedWhistling in the pounding heatThe meagre rattling bushesDormantIn the absence of windNo one will be savedNo oneLire la suite « Napa Valley »

Concevoir un site comme celui-ci avec WordPress.com
Commencer