Wednesday, July 11, 2012

When the Rain Comes

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Lawn is brittle
and crackles beneath my feet.
Plaintain leaves 
could very well be chips;
just add oil and salt.
Yellow leaves fall.
Almost daily, 
another plant shows stress.
Others show 
this season's growth 
above ground 
is done.
When I drove to past 
fields of corn yesterday,
leaves pointed straight up,
in harsh vertical lines.
Was that prayer?
Hay fields are not producing 
a second round.
When the rain comes at last,
I think I shall cry.
~~~~
Glinda Crawford, 2012 
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