for all the dust
of passings
and split stones
and rocks silted
in beds where rivers wept
and the slow drift
of land forgetful
from decades of abuse
and no longer nimble enough
to cradle seed to harvest
for all the sprawling
concrete sheds
fat with distraction engines
and the skies bleak
with low-orbit tinned lies
dimming the truth of stars
we have not yet forgotten
how to dance a dream
of lip and tongue and skin
and hope

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing
#MastoPrompt 23 January 2026 - barren.