image by Musin Yohan
It is not the storm clouds
I fear, but the empty fields
that will starve my children.
I pray the dehydrated earth
below my feet will drink its fill
and then let flooded lips drown famine.
I rob bloated anguish to carry
the last sheaves of harvest
to feed hope to growling hunger.
©Susie Clevenger 2013
Written for The Mag #175 . Image was provided by Tess Kincaid.