That is a
desert
The
desolation we left behind
Nothing
special
Nothing
alive
Here it is
green
It is all
alive
Water
visits and stays
Summer
leaves
For a
reasonable duration
No envy
for the dry tundra
Not even
the flat land
With
straight lines for roads
That melt
into the liquid horizon
A distant horizon
I forgot those existed
Here where
the trees grow so close
They hug
each other tight
And
obliterate the distances
All is
right here and now
The mind
starts to forget
Why
pioneers looked West
Why the
promised land
Set up
residence
On the
Pacific coast
The
Southern lands remain
Seeped and
rotting
Soaked in
their history
Where the
sky long ago forsake
The
dripping dense landscape
The sky
left to frolic
In arid
vastness
Enrobed in
scarlet and orange
A gift
from their friend
The long
setting sun
It is
vanity that adorned the promise
That drew
it to linger here
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