Monday, July 27, 2020

Drought year (Day 1285)

we drove northwest

toward a distant

dark smudge of granite

 

through low oak-studded 

folds   resting   golden 

as fallen pears


in the full midday sun

katydids rasped messages 

in complex code


urgent answers

to the problem of rain 

which would pass  


to the south or slide

down the eastern slopes

if it fell at all


(c) 2020 by Hannah Six

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