We rush through
a tinderbox world
with an armload of matches
as the wind picks up
Skies darken
lightning flashes
but no rain falls
Ignorance and Want
follow us
track us
trace our steps
drawing ever closer
Then high above
the vultures begin to circle
and all our bad victories
catch in our throats
These 55 words are woefully late for Joy’s FF55 at Verse Escape.
In Other Words 