Dustbowl
The last of her blowsy rage
Flits on midden sky
A last stand of heat
A striding forward
80 firm
Fanning myself
Under the salve of trees
I look forward to the cooling of air
Breeze bumping
Fat raindrops
Bespeckling my vision
For we all must weep
To nurture
Fertile ground
We all must weep
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2013