The earth wails in cracked silence
fissured with gaping yawns
in the noonday sun.
Parched smiles riddle the ground
flaking off in a summer breeze,
each a silent message begging for rain.
Grass is now served on lawns
fried to a yellowed crispy crunch
with a side of blistering sun.
Frogs that once heralded
the arrival of reviving rain
can now be heard croaking
the drought-ridden blues
...............well beyond the midnight curfew.
Their listless guests quietly sitting
atop dried lily pads which now
resemble shrunken toad stools
listening to the hoarse-croaked blues.
Titled songs now being heard
around the dried creek bed
range from the one hit wonder
“Parched in the Creek Too Long”
to a new single now making its début
“This Rocks Too Hot For Hopping.”
No creek fee, just B.Y.O.W.
(Bring your own water)
Written by: Debra Squyres
With All rights reserved, on 7/7/2012