Silver Luxe
Jan 19, 2024
Their rusted faces
And golden down
Silver luxe traces
Plenty in town
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Seamstress did one
Weaver did two
The cobbler won
No food to chew
Oh, if only I had a
Hammer to swing
Then they would sway
To bring in the spring
Don’t need a red sky
The ground cries out
Words cannot justify
This Anthropocene drought
We were promised
The soft calm rains
Was that dishonest
To placate growing pains?
