Description: I wrote this last night. I'm not sure if it's about actual drought, or just the feeling of waiting for a new idea to hit your muse. Maybe both. So, it's udner nature, but it's also a deeper metaphor than that. I have GOT to stop explaining all my poems. Oi.
Dreams drawn out like clouds, expansively changing,
Life giving thunderheads, wetting desert soil
where creatures lie dead and fruitless
Only the dream of rain brings the bloom
They crawl from muddied sand
Taking over; like giving birth,
heaving soil away, exposing new, brief life
They will die again, to wait
Dreaming of the rain
I very much liked the way you circled back at the end, but then I have a soft spot for things like that. excellent imagery too. Just a thought, a little random but I think it could apply, maybe try working in not just sight but touch, sound, and taste too. I think this piece could explode with a bit of husky noise and dry taste laced in.
- T T
ps if i'm too confusing feel free to message me and i'll try harder to speak proper english.