Dry Spell

Wilted grass lay brittle,

the earth cracks in frustration,

longing for moist.

Parched, the thirst remains un-quenched.

The undercurrent of hot blood,

surges to the brink of relentlessness,

alas, it is bridled.

How do you unravel a dry spell?

Say “abracadabra”,

with a deadpan.

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