the drought by anelephantcant
another day the woman says
as she opens wide the curtains
she has never felt less sure before
she is totally uncertain
the baby gurgles on the floor
all smiles his feet are kicking
the children laugh around the smell
of next door’s frying chicken
the infant’s odour fills the room
the children quickly estrange him
she knows the mess must first be cleaned
as part of what is changing
she wonders what is on his mind
her man so unpredictable
expressions in his foreign tongue
create images undepictable
is he the cause of what she feels
is he the key to all things
the fear that narrows in her throat
the joy that from her heart sings
and can she leave her world behind
can she travel through the drought
is he the bringer of the light
or the reason for her doubt
anelephantcant 
Dear Elephant,
This echoes my mood today. That last verse is so full of questions and possibilities and, as always fleshed out and brought to life by the reader.
Hugs and Shalom,
Rochelle
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AnElephantCant begin to imagine that mood, dear R.
But if his words provoke a little thought, then he is content.
Thank you for your time, greatly appreciated.
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The making of a dreamy, hazy, blues stories. Maybe a mournful sax in the distance. She knows he’s a stranger.
Interesting title for a beautifully crafted poem fertile in possibilities and directions.
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Thanks, Em, on a rereading it also has the makings of a kitchen sink drama, definitely not the original intent.
And they do not come much stranger than AnElephant.
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