Harmattan
Sahara desert is coming with its dry wind
Dry wind that desiccates the skin
See it come with its cold wind
Cold wind that makes oil sleep in tin
It comes to dry the lips
To force the lips to tear
Then the tongue licks the lips
To reduce its burden to bear
Sahara desert is here with its moistless wind
Our fields are loosing its fresh foliage
Our moist soil is now arid and drained
It makes all things look its old age
The young wrinkles like the old
And their future old nature unfold
poem by YoungBen Ulebor
Added by Poetry Lover
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