Dry Season
When sweats are like shower,
And patch throats cry for aqua,
And rooms become all frowsty,
And blood is warm and ways be dusty,
When squirrels come out for the berries by the river,
Then at nighttime the gentle wind blows,
High and low,
A merry note,
When roofs are cover in soot,
When whirlwind carry kites in the streets,
And leaves all gone dry on trees,
And birds chatter happily in the sun,
And in the river we longed to have fun,
When angry fire flayed tall trees,
Then at nighttime the gentle wind blows,
High and low,
A merry note,
When roofs are cover in soot,
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