The Makers The Rain

Alone in the pockmarked countryside

an old woman finds no place to hide

her children and grandchildren have been dying

for forty years

and her tears have become rivers

that the clouds have taken

and taken

and God has forsaken her again

as her tears have been dropping

back down from the sky

leaving salt covering the countryside

as they dry

and, though seeds may be sown

no life can be grown

and thirst cannot be quenched

by rivers like these

and thirst cannot be quenched

by clouds like these

pay attention please

we are the makers of rain

we are the takers of life.

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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