Thursday, September 1, 2011


Nothing but the sound of crickets.
Nothing but the smell of stale, September air
I can't believe the dark, stillness, 
filling the space out there.

She wants to fill all the buckets, 
to the brim, 
to the point where they're overflowing
with so much water
that the whole world could take a drink.
enough water to quench the thirst
of all the earth's children.

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