miles without water

we
are walking miles
without water

waiting at bus stops
left in the dust

panting in the heat
like a dog

and the air is thick with smoke
and exhaustion

on this old earth
the soil
is red with memory
but holds no water

dropping like flies
in the summer
we're waiting
for our last days

and the flat plains
of the desert
do not allow

for an echo
or the resonating cry

of mothers made
to bury their children
in the orange sand.