CHILD OF DROUGHT
Skin of dried fancy-dress crepe,
Hanging loosely like a crumpled cape,
Claw-like hands folded in prayer,
Answer him God, when he asks where,
“Where is rain, tell me where?”
Belly swollen in ruthless hunger,
Food? Yes, he´s heard of it.
Moisture? none, all gone,
Not a drop,
None in the earth,
None in the sky,
None within his sad little eye.
“Please lord, tell me why?”
“My child, there is a reason”.
© Sue Lobo 2015
Response to our Inspiration Call on December 27, 2015
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