by Emily Eddins
Do you know what it is
To miss the soft touch of rain
Stroking your roof
Like the calm reassuring hand
Of your dead mother
On your fevered brow
Holding a cool glass of water
To your parched lips
Hard and cracking like
Drought-packed dirt
Hugging defeated oaks
Whose crackling leaves whisper
A prayer to the wind
Please send rain
A roaring pulse in your ears
Blood rushing like a creek
About to break its banks
The memory of a storm—its excess
A delirious dream
In sweat-soaked sheets