Some Men

If we all cried, there would be no scorched earth.

No droughts on this plain,
The lemon tree in full bloom.
Somewhere on the chalkboard,
Men became deserts.
Rough, rugged, lonesome
Dove cowboys–
Basking in adobe wall shadows.
Sand snake skin.
Taking in the comfort
Of suppression. Silence.

The plants wither away.
Famine whips land like bootstraps
Rough walls fracture like cicada skin.

But some men cry.
Some men take comfort
In floodwaters, swollen
Rivers bring new life
To this landscape
Of dry eyes and cracked feet

Let rivers engulf eyes
Let thunder beat out of bone,
Crack open coral walls

Shed tears when the sun steals
Time, and the river abandons
Wet rock. Mourn for dead
Stars, remember what’s lost.

We can’t live in walls anymore.
If we all cried then the clouds
Would forgive us.

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