A Poem a Day (429): Parched

 

Inspired by a black and white photograph of a dried landscape and cracked earth.

 
Parched
 
The red land lies parched,
calls forth for a rainstorm,
 
clouds brewing on the hills,
monoliths of black night.
 
Cold rises where they hover.
Cracked, split, drip-dried,
 
sutures weave in hard skin,
this rind sealing the land,
 
its dried-up, crooked self
redrawing lines for Hopscotch,
 
where we could skip & jump
if there was not this thirst.
 
We watch the clouds rewind
for they will not fall today.
 
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, May 22, 2021