YEAR OF DROUGHT

At the pond’s edge, waterside of blueberries,

a frenzy of mullet tumbles,

and water swirls silver flashes.

No snow pack this year

to bring the stream from the mountain,

wash last season’s sorrow over the spillway.

Bereft of swift water, a place to spawn,

the mullet twist and writhe in the shallows,

disbelief in suspense.

While the fish turn in dreams

of other springs, the blue heron hunkers,

fills his belly with their want.

Husband, I don’t know how to tell you

I want to go home.

Patricia Caspers has had work appear in various journals, such as Comstock Review, Slipstream, Spillway, Anderbo, and Ploughshares. She writes a weekly blog post, “Hearing Voices: Women Versing Life” for Ploughshares, and she edits poetry for Prick of the Spindle. Caspers teaches writing at Worcester State University.