Thursday, April 14, 2016

The Year Of Drought / Midnight In The Garden Of Okra And Beans

Three
hundred sixty five

nights spun

black

ballads
and verses

of lack.

Rain flirted
with dirt
the tender turned
                         
earth

until drought

dragged the dry line

back

to the south 

or the north

call the rainmaker

in
to the barn

to the cellar

what weatherman

can holster the twisters

and lightning;

it's water I need

to baptize my okra

and beans.

For Kerry's prompt at Real Toads

17 comments:

De said...

Your incredible layout creates four different pieces here. My favorite phrase from all is "nights spun of lack." Just too fantastic. Love love love your title.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I absolutely love the way your words swirl on the page :D
Beautifully done.

Debi Swim said...

Baptist the beans and okra.... love it.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

This was clever and heartfelt - you've so much talent, can't you send me way? I mean the stuff you're not using. Love, Mosk

Sherry Blue Sky said...

WOW!!! This is fantastic in every way. Brilliant!

Outlawyer said...

Like a garden laid out in rows--but with dearth in between. Really wonderful. k.

Raivenne said...

Oh I love the twist of this to read. So well crafted. Tornadoes cannot be predicted and I forgot fro all the thunder they really do not produce much in the way of lasting precipitation.

Susie Clevenger said...

Beautiful presentation of your poem...I think of my drought of words when I read this. Lately I have been praying for rain.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Leaves me gasping! :-)

brudberg said...

I feel like this is gardening to a level of desire

Kerry O'Connor said...

A maelstrom of wind and words. This was an exceptional read. It scares me, sometimes, to think of you living in twister territory.

Carrie Van Horn said...

All beans and okra need a baptism sometime....so love all that you have woven here!!

Hannah said...

So imaginative...I LOVE the layout, MZ!!

Susan said...

Love the flirting and sparse sprouting this form reveals to me. I love a weatherman who might "holster the twisters"--any prayer to baptize the staple crops of the farm. Neat.

She said...

You know I'm really into this.

I especially like this hidden poem:

"nights spun of lack

earth-back (verb)

[and] call the rainmaker

to the cellar"

Fireblossom said...

How'd I overlook this? I am wondering how incredibly long it must have taken to arrange this on Blogger!

grapeling said...

I love this, MZ ~