Rain Where There's None

The cool of former rain lulls

these small farms to plenty.

They've stopped the spring

burnings weeks ago expecting

an october. And it always comes.

It's the month of death when up is

surely down. The witches gather

in the field. But it's a while till then.

Meantime there's the living part

of being here.

© Copyright, 2015, L. Ward Abel.
All Rights Reserved.