Drought and August Rain
by Wesley D. Sims

The thirsty lawns begged for a drink.
Browning cornstalks lacked the energy
to hold up their weakened arms,
bowed their heads as if in prayer.
Pastures crunched when the ranchers
walked about to assess the damage.
Cows and horses bawled for better grass or hay.
Farmers congregated and petitioned
the Almighty. July dragged into August.
Rain dancers whooped and drummed for thunder.
Even saints began to wring their hands and worry.
When the calendar began to turn toward September,
relief flew in on the wings of a noisy night.
A strong storm finally blustered through.
Dawn found the trees gasping for breath
and shaking to straighten their cover,
yards and pastures treading water.
Pessimists rejoiced for a little while
but still found the cloud below the silver lining–
August rain: the best of the summer gone.



 

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