Over Our Heads

 skies darken with

approaching rain,

and we are left in

clouds of humidity

waiting for the deluge

that never comes,

no matter

how many times

promised;

fears and tears

streak across our

countenances like

dust bowls in the mid west

during the peak of summer;

skies yield out good fortune

and steal away promises,

but they never betray the

mother that feeds them.

15Aug14