Day: December 8, 2016

(Poem #130 on new numbering scheme)

A conspiracy of ants debated,
congregated, danced.
Some crickets sang in a trance,
but the sun spared not a glance.
The Californian earth cried, desperate
for rain or wet, but sighed
resigned to hot wind that dried
the trees and grass. The hills died.

– a pair of englyn unodl union (caveat: this poem not reflective of the current weather outside).