DROUGHT  (4-8-92, Galveston, Texas)

   
this bucket    
     of brushes    
tastes no paint    
     they reach    
for use      
     but only      
catch dust    
     from this    
stale air      
     i continue    
to breathe    
     where no    
colors rain here    
     presently    
through me    
     to quench    
my thirst    
     or that    
of each brush    
     like arrows    
they stand    
     waiting      
to pierce      
     this drought    
which has    
     currently    
dried my fingers    
     dried my vision    
dried my heart    
     leaving me    
like them    
     it seems    
standing here
     presently   
so empty   
     of any colors    
to quench
     my inner visions
longing thirst    
     for more      
vibrant life    
     as i once    
knew and    
     lived it    
so many
     long gone
years    
     ago
now