High Noon Poem by Catherine Yen

Obsolete the universe
Yawned
Copy a sun
Closing to the earth
Sweat out the tree
Standing alone
Eyes on the door opening
Looked around the pedestrians’ youth
Dried and bitter the soul
Wrapped in a plastic cloth
Left outside the sniff of the wild dog
Smelling the thirst afar

Heat folded the road
Curving the eyesight
Air burnt the lips
Persist in the breath
Under the sun
Victory is the withered spring
Dandelion cannot hitch ride of the wind
The stones squatted aside the bridge
Listen to the deep roar of the sky
Curious about the distant storm
A driverless bus
Passed