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Under the bright and sunny sky
of a desert long and wide,
the palate of a throat turns dry,
as along the sands he strides.
Penetrated heat prevails
under sweat soaked skin
and coolness crying out aloud,
“Allow me to come in!”
But, up ahead, some water cool,
flowing like a brook,
drinkable only to a fool
who thinks ahead, not looks.
Our man has passed, but many more
will need, but will not drink
the water flowing like a brook
of which they’ll only think.
Reproduction of “The Oasis”
COPYRIGHT 2000 by Michael Bonanno
LOC Reg. #TXu 934-647
or any part therein without
the express written consent
of Michael Bonanno, is prohibited,
except in “fair use” cases
Home About Michael Poetry MICHAEL'S BOOK OF POETRY
(and some other assorted foolish verses)