An Arid Mind

Turned the soil

Planted thoughts

Yet there is no growth.

No, not true

There are weeds aplenty

Where new growth

Should be,

Crops good for the body


Dandelions fostering

Remembrances of failures


A milk weed mind

Generating no good news.

A yearning to create

Other than the past

The mind bends not

To the will.

Fear and impotence


Doubt lingers.




Rain down upon my

Dust bowl

Give me rivulets of power

And prose

That I might promise

A brighter tomorrow.