Waters

The waters walked slowly, from the red mountains
Entering  parched plains, with wind on their backs.

The forked snake tongues would proceed smoothly,
Exploring, gently patting short grasses on the heads

Feeling for living creatures, their thingy existences
Under the sky and on the earth,brown with the sun.

 Mountains bled with muddy waters in their hearts
And renewed  lives of our rivers for one more year.

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