the storm blows in from the gulf
blessing the parched landscape
some other god sends drought
as it always does in winter
punishing earth's drunkenness
anger rumbles on a tin roof
and the rage is dynamite
brimstone and then thunder
two rival air forces dog fighting
like good and evil in the garden
I rest behind thin walls of hope
I know well my frail protection
a puff of wind takes me down
I am an old worn sodden tree
and tired of storms and hiding
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem