Cover my shortcomings
with straw and burn

that pyre.

burn, sunshine.

Until the ground is nothing
but scorched earth
And we can scratch our names
In the dirt.

We’ll bury the sticks
when we’re done.

Trace a song for
the drought

And sing
until the gods answer
our calls
or help.

And dance until it rains
to prepare ourselves
for the harvest.

But remember to keep stores
for the winter.