Yellowed stalks yield nothing
but for the local insect population;
row upon row of moisture starved corn
along with everything else agricultural
failing under a persistent sun.
Dust grows like a new commodity
choking the farmers as they frantically
draw water from lakes and rivers
who wane in the relentless heat.
With all of mankind’s devices
we are still at the mercy
of God and mother nature,
for existence can be smote
while we look on helplessly.
Perhaps, if the soul is nourished
then those souls are heard
beyond our reality
and the rains might come
returning dust to earth
and earth to fertile ground,
new growth will spring forth
and we will know green.