Drought [Revised]

Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-brown-bare-tree-on-brown-surface-during-daytime-60013/

Grass grows patchy in bristling brown spikes
(if it grows at all).  The smooth-complexioned 
face of land now sunburned and cracked 
under unrelenting heat.  Fields once flush
with fruits go barren, pleading

through parched throats and chapped lips 

that no kiss of water
or answered prayer
has yet come to soften,

for August doesn’t care 
about religion or rain dances.


FOWC, W3, dVerse, and retroactively Poets and Storytellers United. I took inspiration from Timothy Price. Also inspired by one of my own poems.


  1. That is an excellent drought poem that captures the dry and desperate plants and landscape. Thanks for the link. I so happy gave you a little inspiration for this wonderful piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Reblogged this on From guestwriters and commented:
    Who knows, July and August will be recorded as the warmest and driest months in Europe since records began.

    One can only hope that now, with all the fires and other natural disasters that are coming to our regions, there will be a greater awareness that something must be done to combat global warming.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Confession: this poem is made up, as, to my knowledge, my geographic region is not experiencing a drought. I just thought it was believable so I wrote it. But I do think it’s interesting that there’s such divergent experiences of weather globally this time of year.


  3. This is incredibly palpable and tugs strongly on my heart. I especially resonate with; “Fields once flush with fruits go barren, pleading through parched throats and chapped lips that no kiss of water or answered prayer
    has yet come to soften.” Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt ❤❤

    Liked by 1 person

  4. That is true. August doesn’t care. And I live her mostly because she’s getting me closer to fall. Yay.
    So I adore Autumn.
    Your poem, lovely. I adore it to pieces too. Thanks for sharing. Blessing as always.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Indeed, August can be merciless … in Central Oregon I awaken many mornings to hazy sun and the smell of distant wildfires. Your poem is exquisitely composed.


  6. Dunno how I missed this one! The funny thing, I find August to be a relief in some way. No need to feel at odds with all the blooming greenery. We’re all dry and dying and depressed now!


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