maybe, our footprints drifted over, sand blasted and erased,
when desiccating winds have finally ceased their primeval howling,
when a shoot (maybe green) reaches, its brave roots holding fast;
maybe another will also take hold. maybe order will return
tranquility’s hues soothing
The word from dVerse Pub for Poets on this quadrille Monday is “tranquility”. Our publican, the puller of pints and poster of prompts, is Lilian. Go by the pub to read her interesting post and other poetic responses.