Dry

Shades of darkness
taste of bees
shards in the eye
of glass used to be wine
only to dry out into desert's realm
sand in mouth
bullets in pocket
sweat of lies
shaping over month of july
into frozen december of summer time
lovers, loners
sights of questions
over sand hills
sinking in beauty of debris
no water could behold the sun

Would birds leave my
branches and leaves
will i die and rot
on my own here ?
silence my friend
you can sing at me
as they can but you always
come back to me
will my roots dry on their own
no water
no clouds
and i can not move
i can not un-root.