Drake M. Alexander | Author Site

Plump tomatoes and savory peppers grow in my field.

Precious to me, I visit them often

A watering can in hand

Seldom do they need water, but I visit them all the same

Lest an unexpected wave of heat and drought destroy

The crops I hold dear.

But no one waters me

Usually that is alright

and sporadic rains give me just enough

to stay alive

My friends are well watered

So they trust the rains to water me as well

They seldom visit to check on me

Not until I am about to shrivel up and die

Under the blistering sun

Then, they come with watering cans

to nurse me back from the brink of death

for a week or two, they check on me

and soon the once bare stalk puts forth

shoots of living green and I begin

to recover

Satisfied that I am on the mend, they go back

To their complacent lives and their self watering

And once again, I check on them each month

While they assume the rains will water me

During this roasting global drought