Sirocco by Jonathon Penny

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A man could almost fall in love
With this sun-dyed black-gold place
Could go for arid mile on mile
And never see God’s face
And thus avoid disgrace.

A man could drift and wander
Change his shape like blood-red dunes
Pour his freedom out like water
And his faith like feckless spume.
After all, there’s ample room.


For Jonathon’s bio and links to other poems he’s published on WIZ, go here.


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