Watching the Ripples Radiate.
Author: marshalg

Chapter 35
No Rain from Yonder Blue

Four long months without a drop
And the ground is cracking wide,
The grass is burning up so dry
It rustles with each stride.
The stock are standing hot and limp
Their panting tongues extend
And the river bed's so parched
There's no relief around the bend.
 
The crop is only inches high
The heads are sparse and thin
The sparrows hide beneath the eves
And there's never any wind.
The dust remains suspended
There's a shimmer in the air
And the hover of that hot mirage
Portends no end out there.
 
The saltbush is the only green,
The only thing that thrives
With unrelenting parchment
Except, of course, the flies.
The lizards bask in sunshine
And the crickets song insane, 
There's a miniature dust devil
Whirling dryly down the lane.
 
The cockie's face is gaunt and lined
White whiskers on his chin,
His eyes are bruised with worry
And his finances are thin.
There's no grass to feed the cattle
So he's forced to sell them short
And the bank has little patience
With his plea for farm support.
 
There's a massive anticyclone
Which extends from coast to coast
And the sun a scorching blowtorch
With a penchant will to roast.
It's a harrowing succession
Of high pressure systems through
And the land and people wilt and wait
For rain from yonder blue.
...The Australian people hope and pray
For RAIN FROM YONDER BLUE
 
Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
22 March 2008
 
 

 

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