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Desert Cactus.

A kiss in the dark,

hands held tight, the distant

pleasure of love

often alluding us, like water

in a barren land, but one

that still grows cacti

without hesitation;

a thousand stubbly pricks

in search of water

and the tendrils

that slip underneath the soil.

Ian D. Hall 2016

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This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged Desert Cactus, poetry by Ian D. Hall, poetry from Bootle., poetry from Liverpool on November 30, 2016 by admin.

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Ian D Hall


Click to find out more about Ian D Hall

Email Ian at bluesquonk@hotmail.co.uk

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