Water fowl still gather
In half empty ponds;
A woodcarving man
Doing the best he can
Has wood for sale.
A scorched earth
Blighted with crops of
Raggedy failing corn;
Miles of
Vineyards with
Grapes dried out
On the vines.
A suffering economy
A suffering people;
A suffering land.
All has been taken away
Except for half hearted hope;
Prayers that rain
Will come again soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Carolyn, you really have written an excellent piece, well-penned, you got my vote 10+, keep it up....