Oh, yes, like so much of Texas when there are no rains. I hope you don't mind, Cynthia, but your haiku reminded me of a poem I wrote once for an exercise in a poetry journal (based in Texas). Here it is:
False Promises
Storm clouds gather again tonight as they have each night for a week. The bleak wheat ripples along as the edge of the front tousles its heads and approaches the west side of town. Our trees awaken from their sullen nap and wave to welcome the breeze and another chance for a thunderclap. But again, it's only a tease-- A few drops fall, leaving dark tears in the chalky earth, not nearly enough to deter the dust devils from dancing across the fallow field to leer at us, and taunt, "We fooled you again!" Those dervishes swirl away to the east, leading the way for the dark clouds which also soon are out of sight. We watch with resignation from the porch, cooler than inside, until the night falls, all color in the sky bled from the sunset, a thick dusty red. Tomorrow will be hot and dry again.
Oh, yes, like so much of Texas when there are no rains. I hope you don't mind, Cynthia, but your haiku reminded me of a poem I wrote once for an exercise in a poetry journal (based in Texas). Here it is:
ReplyDeleteFalse Promises
Storm clouds gather again tonight
as they have each night for a week.
The bleak wheat ripples along
as the edge of the front tousles its heads
and approaches the west side of town.
Our trees awaken from their sullen nap
and wave to welcome the breeze
and another chance for a thunderclap.
But again, it's only a tease--
A few drops fall, leaving dark tears
in the chalky earth, not nearly enough
to deter the dust devils from dancing
across the fallow field to leer at us,
and taunt, "We fooled you again!"
Those dervishes swirl away to the east,
leading the way for the dark clouds
which also soon are out of sight.
We watch with resignation from the porch,
cooler than inside, until the night
falls, all color in the sky bled
from the sunset, a thick dusty red.
Tomorrow will be hot and dry again.