Running on a wooded ridge

I stopped in

reverent pause

to  see the water

brought by summer rains.

The Missouri River ‘s fury

floods spring’s tilled crops.

The fields hide in waiting waters,

the gray still-stagnant waters slow to recede

taking homes.

The hopes of farmer’s toil…

as he sits at a

nearby diner.

Sweat-dried hat placed

on the counter,

his burnt brown brow wrinkled

from worry.

The Missouri River

still continues to flow

near-by…

now back within

the levees,

quieter now ,

the rains have stopped.

©  CMM  2011