Drowning

It is proverbial as well as fact

that water can cut through rock,

and if I had its fluid power now

I’d carve out a valley from your stone;

this water would fight fire too

should you ever decide to burn.

But after all of these years I have never

flowed; and being more the river bed

you will have desired a rain-dance

not demanding but full of hope.

There is never enough, or too much in

the wrong places, and whether divining

or waiting for nature to take its turn

this drought will be your drowning.