After the lightning
igniting fires, after the storm,
a new day dawns
with hope
and a hint of change
from the blistering summer heat
with the equinox knocking
at the door, I think
of all the jobs earmarked
for years—our growing list
of work we’ve saved
for rainy days.
The prognosticators
are unusually quiet,
don’t dare say
when to expect a rain.
I keep adding to a list
that will outlive me.
drycrikjournal 