Seasons of Dust

born with a want of most
we scream to be heard
above the sirens of others
neediness, what is left
for me, want want need
nothing any more or any
less than what there is
under that tree, roots
to keep you fed and
strong don't want what
isn't possible because
disappointment can drive
you crazy girl, be resourceful
and turn that dirt until you
find what it is you can use,
satisfy your hunger with
creative frugality now
survival can be romantic
and magic can be practical
seasons of dust, let the
fire cleanse you, don't
hold on to dry rocks
that leave you aching
for a little nourishment
when there is a waft
of moisture in the air
look up and reach for
a cloud.