August 2, 2012

Drought









Yesterday's
predicted rain
has not arrived,
riding the jet stream
farther north,
missing us,
falling somewhere else
to soak the ground,
moisten parched lips,
make lust possible.
I remain
in the desert,
like a cactus
digging farther down,
weary eyes shaded
against the dust,
seeing if that is
really you
coming around,
moving up my walk
without a sound.

8/2/12