D.rough.t

The sky, mean today, blue
pressing down on sunburned
shoulders. No clouds to hide
behind; no moisture to
slake this thirst ... what I would
give for a cracking storm
full of thunder and rain!
Instead, I'm singing b l u e
in the redness of my
pain: the crops, dead and gone;
Earth's children, nearly so.
My mouth is desert-dry -
it longs for relief - I
remember water. Once .. . ..

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman.