The Next Rain

false hint of sun we’re back on the road shadows of hills emerge fields and prairies the same old story have and have nots gravel shoulders a small town on a side road water tower pointing into the sky another fall of rain clouds drape skies song of tires the small town sleeps conversations with the wind something left unsaid the road bears its age a grove of trees, an island in fields stalks turned gold living and dying unfinished dialogues