there had been a long drought,
prayers had been vainly offered-up
to all the cloudy temples
of the air god.

if we could get the wind to take us
our plan would probably end
in death for all of us,
now donning leathery skins.

but the weather continued dry,
and in another week all eyes
echoed a vacancy for hope
as we cast them upward.

one old man swears
'bet it'll never rain again!'
another old man pays him,
'yer prolly right!'

09/12/2006