the dry season

the famine
of love struck
hard.
the farmers
sat on their porches,
staring into the fields,
up at the white skies
but it was a dry
season.
the earth cracked.
you could almost
hear the sigh
of the wind
as it blew through
the fields
of corn stalks
and hearts.
the plows sat
rusted in the dirt.
there was no
moving forward,
there was no
going back.