- Afternoon temperature. In the shade.
Slow & Coiling
drought doesn’t rage
like hurricanes or tear
the world like twisters
it’s a slow dismantling
of yellowed ecosystems
ash blown on wind
blind salamanders
blocks from a jenga tower
pulled one by one
cracks snake the earth
the quiet collapse of cattle
roaming mudpits, abandoned
fawns starving on roadsides
constellations of vultures
summer’s stars dark and full
silent silent sky
smoky whispers of a thousand
cigarette wildfires, sirens
a lone bat loops the dusk
where swallows and kingbirds
once flew toward trees
songless losing leaves
months before their time
tree rings tell futures
constricted bands
a snake coiling around
this thirsty dying land
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
If you had a traditional thermometer, I could make a joke about coyote mercury. Alas. This drought y’all are having is no laughing matter either, it seems.
Maybe I could find one with a coyote on it. Thanks for the link to this.
A powerful poem with vivid imagery. A great read.
Thanks, Tumblewords!
The carelessness of smokers with their cigarettes unnerves me, especially at a time like this when anything can set off a wildfire.
Praying for rain on this end of TX, too.
No kidding. The whole area seems ro be burning today.
It’s become so overused to say it at this point, but I wish I could send you some of our rain. 😛 Here where the land is drowning, it’s tough to watch at a distance where it’s gasping. And now it’s looking like only the eastern fringes will get rain from Lee this weekend… I’ll send my butterflies to flap their wings and change things around.
Thanks, Joseph, for the concern and the butterflies. We only caught the dry side of Lee, which lowered the humidity an raised the wind. Now everything is burning. What we need is a hurricane to come in south of Corpus.
I just found you on Dave Bonta’s sidebar, and was happy to read this poem – not because it’s a happy poem, but because it’s comforting to find another Texan finding a way to talk about all this.
I’m in League City, between Houston and Galveston. I’ve spent most of the day watching the radar, trying to move some rain in by sheer force of will. It’s not working, today. Maybe tomorrow. I think you got some, though. I hope so. If not, maybe tomorrow.
Thanks for dropping by, shoreacres! We finally got rain last weekend. A few inches. Not enough by far but good for now.
[…] I could just see her head poking above the woven fabric of the basket, which has been empty since last summer’s drought killed the plants that were there. Now it’s just a small shelf of dirt and, it seems, a nice […]