Thursday, April 5, 2018

Bradbury Dreams

I dream of scorpions, 
snakes in the dust, 
wrought iron fences, 
corrosion and rust.
I dream of smokestacks, 
a blotted-out sun,
a darkened horizon 
before day’s begun,
I dream of wastelands, 
so dark and so bleak,
a silence unbroken, 
with no one to speak. 

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