The Great Wheel

The rain sweeps soft across

Roof, trees, road, leaves

A trail of rivulets in the

Dust, a long time coming.

Like the moon luminous

Cresting the horizon

Washing the land clean of its

Barren dryness accumulated

A shimmered summer long.

Summer when the winds

Blow cool on the hot days

Beach sands scorch

Burned feet and waves

Riffle out in quiet elegance.

Rain pocks the Earth,

Autumn comes,

Summer's gone, and

The great wheel

Turn again.