The american Air

 There a  moon glides across the sky, the milky way sparkling on  its back,

What about this american air, rising in waves, rank , in waves,

Deep notes of sweat , of tears  congealed in its depths, 

Volcanic ash settles in those up drafts , fall to the earth slow,

Settles onto the jebels of Sahara, 

From  the leaves high up , they drip down in the Amazon,

Yet what's with this american air, still rank ,rising , shifting ,rising

Shifting with  the stony land beneath, restless , untethered ,

Heavy lies its mantle on the souls , unmoors the souls into chaos ...always ...

Poem by Pc-3 ( 09/22/2024)