Autumn s come



And the leaves are lookin brown and dry.



Sun swings low,



A fruit resists the thirsty ground.



Uselessly,



I try to coax a cloud or two.



Searchin the skies,



Knowin there ain t nothing left to do.







Summer s turned to gold,



My garden s tired and old,



The dust swirls round my bowl -



And still, no sign of rain.







Faithfully,



I ve tended to my patch of land.



Year by year,



I ve scratched to keep my humble clan.



Now and then



Some thunderheads come out of the blue.



Trouble is,



They ve always been too far and few.







Summer s turned to fall,



The air is thick and cold,



I feel it in my bones -



But still, no sign of rain.











Silence shades my lonely claim -



Though all is gold,



there is no rain.



Still, I hear my singinbones







And I believe



Rain will fall.