No matter the level of drought

In the sky

There’s the occasional dewdrop



A little is better than none

None is none

So who wants none

When he can have it all?



Let tongues travel

Across the sea and back

Making me infamously famous

It is a starved plant which hears its stomach rumbling



Casting aspersions will do me no harm

You have to walk in these shoes to feel the heat

I can lie in wait for a river without water

But can’t be thirsty sitting close to a river overflowing

With no thought of the river offering to quench my thirst.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014