Drought

from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice

Nothing is coming.
The well is dry,
the rain isn’t here.
I walk on cracked
ground, hardened soil,
wait for a cloud 
to form, gather.
But it doesn’t, won’t.
So I must surrender, 
do not ask for rain
because it’s clear that
Earth doesn’t owe us
anything anymore.
She is a woman 
who has come to
her senses, who refuses 
to continue to give. 
After everything 
we have taken from 
her, the debt is now 
ours now to repay. 

Photo by Maud CORREA on Unsplash