The sky is grey and hides the sun,
there is no wind, the air is still.
The promised rain has not yet come.
In blazing summer, we would shun
the sunlight. knowing it can kill
but now the grey sky hides the sun.
In winter, we have learned to run
through puddles, dodging overspill
but now, the rain has not yet come.
Between things ended and begun,
between fall heat and winter chill,
the sky is grey. There is no sun
to warm the dead grass. Streams are dumb
and reservoirs cannot refill
because the rain has not yet come.
There is so much that must be done
but oh, I cannot find the will
while greyness blocks the light of sun
and I await the rain to come.
Books Available
Dervish Lions
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside
No comments:
Post a Comment