For grass and cattle, we pray
for rain until the draws run
with tree frogs in January –
until hills leak and release
rocks imprisoned in their clay
for more than centuries.
When gray heavens hover lower
and press heavily upon our minds,
engulf us all in cloud and fog
for a month, we pray for sun
until wildflowers come, now afraid
of an early spring in February.
Forecasts vary, prophets proliferate,
everyman a soothsayer, we pray now
for time to get the work done.
drycrikjournal 
Brodiaea, fiddleneck, poppies, lupine, popcorn flowers have begun to bloom.
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