Walls creak
A smell of dust
Creeps through the cracks
When the wind howls at its form
The dry air draws moisture from the lips
Of those too tired to remember to cough
Their bones rattling in their beds
Mummy outlines on dirty mattresses
Once the soul has stolen away
The ambulance men come
Hauling the husks
To bonfires
Shared by those
Unfortunate to be alive
Existing between the memories
Suffering the pain of surviving
In the wasteland of the dead
Those they lost in peace
Not afforded to them
Eyes that don’t meet
In the shadows of a fire
That threatens to catch the world
And drown them all in the blaze
The dust bowl that leads
Into the Depression
Another fine poem. Powerful images. Keep it up.