Firetail Pottery

Then rain: grasses grow

beneath part skeleton trees

one 10 year old standing dead

orangey leaves among the green

those living still lift bony fingers skyward a foreboding lacework against the blue

Water withdraws leaves drop

one by one red splashed

and brown on roadsides dust

clouded: this place two seesawing worlds one dry one wet

Underneath sun shielded the living unseen hold our fragile reality’s thin hopes of survival close safe guarding seeds that keenly  jump with joyousness oblivious to dry death only the day before