So Much Sorrow
that doesn't stop coming
Like the parched autumn
landscape
day after day of drought
Or skinny deer
in a lean mast year
wandering in search of acorns
Or tree swallows' fruitless
flights
to gather insects
in a drizzling cold
April
Like wilted September spicebushes
who wait for rain
perhaps
someday
showers will fall
and we
will be revived
once again
