It has been a long dry spell
We want our plants taller
My mum is a farmer and
I am her daughter
The winds are blowing hard
The clouds have swallowed the sun
The skies pregnant with rains
Soon we are going to plant

We watch expectantly
Pleading with the rain gods
Our hopes have soared
No longer flat like our bare land
It only took the clouds to raise them

Suddenly the wind direction changes
It’s no longer katabatic
The clouds disperse, the skies clear
The sun rays can be touched
Shining stronger as if laughing at us
The winds blow up our soils and sweep them away with our hopes

I watch the light go out my mother’s eyes
At tears glitter, another season like this she can’t afford to take the farmer’s daughter to school

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