has been our daily
for eleven of the past
fourteen days
hail, sleet, snow,
drizzle, downpour
At first, we said,
“It’s ok, think of the farmers!
the drought must end!”
Nodding our heads
in sympathy.

They say the drought is gone
and yet it rains
my Facebook feed, today,
was filled with flooding images
every other photo and status
moats and extending rivers
I wonder, how it was for Noah
with only God’s forecast
and no radar images to track those
days of storms?

The forecast for tomorrow, you ask?

Today’s prompt was to start and end the poem with the same word. Have you been reading Erin’s poems? Hyperponderating.tumblr.com


3 thoughts on “18

  1. I am tired
    And I hurt
    And I am going to die
    And no one will miss me
    And tomorrow I will get up
    And do it all again
    In the mud and the rain
    And my foot will hurt
    And my cow will moo at me
    And I will pass out in the barn
    And no one will miss me
    So I will eat more snax
    To make up for my loss
    And the mud
    And the cold wind

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