Memory of Water

The withered field too dry to yield/ The cow ever seeking is not a camel/ No oasis in this newborn desert/ Just forest turned kindling/ This dust bowl summer/ Is way beyond a bummer/ Bones bleached white by striking sun/ No swimming hole, no splashing fun/ A dry bed creek where a river once run/ No fish pond poling/ No great catch today/ The rain just seems to stay away/ Oh forlorn prairie, oh cindered land/ Perhaps the Lord will lend a hand