With lips

                shredded like a masquerade’s dress

And faces

                masked in petroleum jelly,

blinding their dryness

                Harm is at hand


With skin

                baked in the oven of ember’s dry wind

And soles

                stripped, cross-hatched by nature’s brush –


                Harm lends a hand


With air-cooled breath

                at dawn and dusk

And dust-filled air

                through mid-day’s heat

Harm stands


Until Janny has lived her 31 days

And Sunny shields the remnants that match

                by March –

When Rain rarely reigns

When Sunshine burns…


Rain ruins…and…

                 Harmattan harms…

3 thoughts on “Harm-at-hand” by MegaCrowns (@ambersphere)

  1. Ah, nicely done.

    I love the harmattan and its harms. I miss it.

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