by Robert L. Ferrier18 Sep 2014
By July farm ponds fade to dun
a map of blistered cracks and creases
like highways gone mad on themselves.
Fields snap and crackle underfoot
corn stalks wither and bend to winds
wisping the fragile hint of stench.
Thirsty rivers grow green islands.
Dead fish soil the shores of lakes
like cancers across the sand.
Wandering the desert of stalks
cattle forage for cribs of hay
and silos dim in brown blown fog.
Talking heads forecast
tornadoes of flame on prairies
a canvass of bluebonnets gone black.
In town I watch the backyard parch
sparrows perch on hummingbird feeders
and peck the yellow plastic blooms.