Unquenched as the prairies
I await the July sky
Bathed in my tropical heat
The ant bides inside
I think of a million footfalls--
And cast a thousand dust storms
Yet never have I had
A blade of February grass
Or a butterfly's morning whisper.
Beside my parched lips of clay
I dream of tired camel hoofs
And the shimmering lighthouse.
I await the July sky
Bathed in my tropical heat
The ant bides inside
I think of a million footfalls--
And cast a thousand dust storms
Yet never have I had
A blade of February grass
Or a butterfly's morning whisper.
Beside my parched lips of clay
I dream of tired camel hoofs
And the shimmering lighthouse.

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