The Drought Poem by Kurt Philip Behm
The Drought
Abbots of darkness
bishops of pain
Cloistered in dogma
praying for rain
Thunderous chanting
tempest above
Damning false prophets
blessing a dove
Grace comes a hailstorm
Coventry's shame
Lost in its downpour
thirst to remain
Warning blasphemers
in skies that portend
Ordained and self-serving
the drought never ends
(The New Room: September,2023)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/28/2026 11:41:58 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
