T for Tom

Fresh Water

Posted in poem by johnsontoms on December 19, 2011

Fresh water on the ground

But this time of year

Not enough comes down

To soak the cracks

And bring right back

The life that can’t be found.

The soil’s dry all the time

And all the crops die

Under sunshine

That any day other

Would feel like a lover

If it fell on shoulders like mine.

1 hundred and 5 never sounds right

but once in a while it’s fine.

Forty-six days in a row crosses the line

And this time

The crops won’t grow.

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