19 March 2008

Dry Season

It is hot,
I breathe
hot, humid air.











T is busy
in
the hot sun,
forking
baked land
for
tomatoes,
and
these
beans.




I read the
instructions
carefully











and tell T
the story
of
Jack.










Mid afternoon
I escape
to the
river.










Dry season
has made
it a stream.











The sun
seeks
me
out.










An Angel
has given me
cive
to plant.
They must
be trimmed
before
planting.





Here are
some she
prepared
earlier.









The mountain
disappears
behind
a cloud
full of
promise.
I race
to make
holes in which
to plant
the beans.
The heavy drops
fall and evaporate and I go to the river
with the bucket.

2 comments:

  1. You give a real sense of being there. Humidity is so draining. You are a brave woman, but there are obvious rewards for living in such a climate as well. :0)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Haha, I have been called 'brave' here too, but it translates as being arrogant, which, I suppose I have been on occassion. Humidity is quite nice once you get accustomed to it.

    ReplyDelete

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