A house. A green house upon a hill, hidden from downtown by tall bamboo Sprouts.…
No Sun
No Sun……
by Ocean Van Zandt
No Sun to shine among the hanging clothes
No bees to pollinate the lifeless flowers
Not even the chirps of birds or barks of dogs
Only the rustling of trees being blown in the cold
numbing wind and the hollow sound of trickling rain
against the rusting tin roofs