Photo: Whelan Works
The sky burns orange.
Winds whip up in a frenzy.
Waves rush in.
Arms reaching for the shore.
Birds flee the scene.
Palm trees bow their heads.
in prayer to The Dead and gone.
Who have returned to our town.
Riding the waves in their fury.
Coming in the dark of night.
After the sun lowers her face.
And the moon shines bright.
Say a prayer for us.
Oasis will never be the same.
THE DEAD GAME
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