Thinking of all those going through drought.
With her forked stick
she walks the surface of the drought.
She walks the future of their farms
calling water to sing through the twig
wherever it may be.
She looks for The Dog stars
in the sky
waiting patiently at the twin’s table.
Cosmic dogs with dry throats sing,
‘the land will once again
have need of boats.’
She throws her forked stick
into the expanse of sky, whispers
‘Little Dog and Dog star hunt for water
Give us rain.’
But for now she must find the underground stores
to tide them over until that rain is found.
The Great Dog rises before dawn
at the end of summer.
of the rains can end.
All will feast on her tears
soaking into earth
giving seeds birth to saplings
and a land…
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