by Erin Jamieson

our yard is full of dust
& even the rain     avoids it

fence posts
splintering on broken ivy

in the garden, mother
bends over a grave

lilacs, they are still
alive

drought is waking up
and reaching for a husband

drought is eating     nothing
& still choking

tomorrow there will be
leaves to rake

lawns to mow
wedding rings to bury

this afternoon
heat makes our skin leathery

& we breathe
through our eyes