Drought

I've come to need

this ebb and flow

this ever~changing tide

I'd gotten used

to the relentless drip

and the steadily falling stream

trickling slowly over my skin

and washing everything clean

I've felt the drive

and the desperate rush

of devastating torrential storms

I've captured the draw

of being towed

back under and into the sea

or the whirling twist of inevitable drain

as this pool becomes empty and free

I've sung to the tapping

on these rhythmic panes

from the joy squeezed out of these clouds

But all that's left now

is broken and parched

cracking and itching, it bleeds

dying of thirst in the wake of this dust

and gasping and struggling to breathe