Summer heat burnt
raised eyebrow
there’s no water
says the roof’s crow.

Filled are the ponds
dried weeded
forgotten bonds
pleas unheeded.

Everywhere searched
not a drop to drink
feeble throat parched
on the death’s brink.

Pleads the crow begs
I cannot wait
with little eggs
waits my mate.

Weeps my soul
don’t stand aloof
keep a small bowl
water on roof.