rain
is a tease
when dirt rises
to spin in vision
like small dervishes
dancing prayers
or hides between roots
never enough water
to fill wells
to feed these sticks
I planted
& there
I can see it
the great lake dwindles
to skim the edge
off our thirst
but I still taste dust
in my mouth
with each breath
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Drought. I can recall some drought conditions from my childhood, but what the country endures now, worst of my lifetime, and you captured it well.
Thank you–so wish it wasn’t so. We are headed for a dust bowl, I fear. For us to feel it this far northeast….
Dang…you back to this? Thought you were in a rainy pattern again like we are. Time for another rain dance?
Yes, I need to find a shaman. Funny how there is a “sham” in that word…
My favorite part is the last few stanzas:
& there
I can see it
the great lake dwindles
to skim the edge
off our thirst
but I still taste dust
in my mouth
with each breath
You have been having a really good day, eh?
š thanks. Yes, the muse has been kind to me today! Even when she makes me thirsty.
I love the image of the dwindling lake. It is out there, within reach, but can’t be drunk and cannot save us.
Yes–sad and true.
And oddly inspiring?
Yes. The dwindling lake representing a dependence on the earth and its weather that we had forgotten, here in the (normally) very wet northeast. I find I get a lot of inspiration from being near water, and apparently its lack is a source of inspiration, too.
There’s a sense of impartiality ~quite vibrating! Hugs~Deb
Thanks, Deb!
very nice susan. your lines, “to feed these sticks i planted and there i can see it the great lakes dwindled” to me seems like a great take on as to the thirst for words. but yes, as to drought, i know what you mean:)
yes–I wrote it literally, for the drought, but there can be many layers of meaning here–works well for a thirst for words.