A water trough
leveled for a float
with a puddle
at the bottom
resembles our aquifer
thousands of feet below
the tax write-offs
of corporate farming,
as the ground collapses
to take the water’s place
deposited before man
walked this earth,
before we were so many
thirsty inhabitants
pumping for more
until the trough is empty.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2026, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged photography, poetry, water
Though summer has been fairly tame here so far, it’s begun to warm up with 108 high on Saturday with cloudy skies and some errant raindrops. The Super El Nino forecasts have been pretty much the same for the past 30 days with few new details, just an elevated level of fear it seems. Like politics, we are hostage to the weather, preparing where we can.
drycrikjournal 