The Drought
The sun is going down across this blistered land.
Little is left alive except a few trees, lizards, & man.
A lone guitar is heard in the fading light.
Man won’t give up the land without a fight.
Summer is over.
The city swelters in the welcomed dusk.
Florescent lights shine through the dust.
A soldier in a bar dreams of a love affair.
While children & mothers swat bugs in the air.
Summer is over.
It’s a never ending show.
Traffic moves by very slow.
Afraid to stir the dusty air.
Flowers lie dead everywhere.
In this cursed, drought dried land
stands a sunburned, lonely man.
His heart is aching for the one he lost.
This is what the drought has cost.
Everything dies from lack of water.
Thanks to man & his foolish fodder.
A small ray of hope burns in the air around all.
Summer is over. —-Will this end it all?
A few more weeks till cooling autumn comes.
Then, maybe, blessed rain for everyone.
Summer is over.
This cannot go on like this for another year.
Man will die without rain. There will be no beer.
There will be no crops to keep man alive.
Animals will die. Bees will mummify in their hive.
Summer is over.
It’s a never ending show.
Traffic moves by very slow.
Afraid to stir the dusty air.
Flowers lie dead everywhere.
In this cursed, drought dried land
stands a sunburned, lonely man.
His heart is aching for the one he lost.
This is what the drought has cost.
Everything dies from lack of water.
Thanks to man & his foolish fodder.———-R. W. Johnson—–(2014)