Jack County--Drought
by Ann Howells

we walk the red dog quarry
__iron rich shale
__that paves
__ __these reddish roads

no dark clouds skim our heads
__tiny white puffs
__float & disappear
we speak bitterly of drought
__crops stunted withered
__ground parched

radio announces
__a three inch rain--
__drops fell three inches apart
an old joke
__we no longer find funny


Copyright © 2021 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.