Jackals cackle
beating paws sound like drums
against an earth cracked from famine.
They pant dry
clouds of dust are heaved
the grained dirt grind between ravenous teeth.

Infants crying
dying.
Mothers hearts are breaking
hurting, aching.
Their lips-like earth-are cracked
thier yearning
wanting water cool for the taking.

Mothers foster bitterness
A father's pride is broken
laying, falling
between those dry cracks
falling
falling
down to magma burning.
Vapors rise, the heat is burning
earth and evermore the jackals

are cackling.