Water in the Desert by Jeanne Lyet Gassman

Summer desert is a still place
Punctuated only with sleepy insect hum.
The sudden unexpected sound of burbling water running
Brings thoughts of waste, loss, hidden treasure

But these are fountains strategically
Placed in courtyards and lawns
Their fuel funneled from pipe and valve
Fashioned of stone and concrete, they stream,
Gushing, to remind us of
The dominance of man.


Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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