The Rains Will Come

By Andrew R. Duckworth

I’ve seen times when
The Mississippi breached
It’s boundaries and flooded fields
And I’ve seen times when
It was nearly bone dry,
Fish flopping and dying
Near the banks.
I’ve seen times when
Winter was but an extension
Of Autumn’s brown and orange leaves
And I’ve seen times when
Winter was an ice palace
Parading down every street,
One car after another
In a ditch.
My first full year in Texas,
There was an ice storm.
And now, three years later,
A drought that is dragging on
Forever it seems,
Depriving the plants a drink.
Occasionally I’ll see grown birds
With their mouths
In a perpetual gape
As they hop from place to place.
Some of them will come
Right up to your foot,
Begging.
The rains will come
Someday.