the farmer’s march

that and now it is almost past february
I’m surrounded
by the flashing strobe
of lightning

the agitation of thunder

from here
bedded in the heart
of the month
they say now
that it will be march

march will see the end
of el niño

the bravest have announced
the very date
of his un-hastened retreat
after so many wasteland years
and from my trembling seat
I can almost believe them

and yet
today I heard tell
of another deadline

have made their play

they’ve sown crops

and done whatever farmers
desperate in their last hopes
in direst straits
have always done
and it has been declared

in march
the rain must come

I hesitate in my celebrations
for light shows
and noise
can be performed dry

while march
is a race
run so very close

© Frank Prem, 2006

Next Poem: lagoon #28

Back to Drought/Lagoon – Introduction

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