The Message in the Droplets by Francis Conlon

Francis Conlon | August 29th, 2021 | poetry | No Comments


Droplets on the windshield,
Moisture that gives life,
Not a real downpour,
But relief from dusty strife.

Clouds are stormy gray,
Not tumultuously dark,
Enough to sprinkle now,
No calling for an ark.

We come to see our need,
For water we might toil,
Digging earth with effort,
For something more than oil.

Land is dry and dusty,
The devil wind is parched,
Whirling by my eyes and ears,
Over earth so dry and starched.

So, come now droplets from the sky,
Nourish our hopes by and by.

(I have faith and my umbrella,
Ready for rain is this fellow.)

Poet Bio

Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering school teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger, and as a boat inspector for ANS (aquatic nuisance species), at Yampa River State Park and at Elkhead Reservoir State Park in northwestern Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice, and in WestWard Quarterly.

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