Story of a Native Belle

Trials and tribulations ... there was a 

creek here ... dark storms poured their 

murky water and raised this expansive 

delta ... the soot torrents swept away 

the tribal children ... if you look carefully 

you can see their shallow graves ... the 

spirits ascended and sowed on the vast 

cosmic plain ... the crickets and toads 

still cry their tribal names ... when 

mother moon rises they grace the 

surface of this black delta like 

crystalline tears kiss an oil puddle ... life

is fickle in shape but eternal in hearts

What do you think? Criticisms and praise welcome.

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