Acharcoal curtain drapes
over the tranquil town.
Shivering ears listen
toits fiery rage.
Dangling pools drip
like sweating palms and hurlthemselves
toward the desiccated earth.
Each bead grasps the hand of theother
as they plummet.
Like corpses,
they wait,
only to be kicked upby angry heels.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Sabina S. 
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