Listen
to these green plants
pleading
beseeching

you would think
they'd be used to it by now
but every year the same old thing

look the rain is finished folks
you're on your own now
nine months before the next shower

this is how leaves suffocate
see the gray dust clogging their pores
hear them choking
under a wind thrown blanket
this is how they drown

brittle and crackling the grasses
soon the weight
of a starving grasshopper
will be enough to snap
them

shrubs will dump
their curled up castoffs
earthwards
scribbled twigs alone
will remain

from now on
only the thieving airplants
will thrive
viral invaders
******* sap from reluctant hosts
who can ill afford
to accommodate them

now patient rocks
are emerging from cover
each a palette of vivid lichens
sundecks for snakes and lizards
now that the clamouring grass
is gone

the land lies baking
withdrawn
curling
into herself

even the air
sighs
slumps

soon fire will come
to cannibalise
the undergrowth
play chasey
through the dry grass
send ants scurrying
downstairs
flip a nod
to the big old cactuses
tickle the toes
of the mesquites-
who will stand stoic
observing the pillage
around their hot feet
and shrug
resigned
seen it all before
they are above it all really

fire
will play homage
to their indifference
lay down
a black velvet carpet


wind
will whistle up
tiny tornadoes of ash
to pirouette
and perish

everyone
will accept the inevitable
eventually
and just knuckle down
to wait it out

in a state of trance
floating
                  on a dream
                                      of rain



Tricia Lambert
Mexico
Nov 2010