"There is a fire ban."

There is a fire ban.
So dry it is a real threat,
the smoky air a fright,
no fire house near the cabin,
no rain in sight.
Windy and dry the wild animals
do the best they can.
Coming closer than they should,
a rabbit, fox and deer
met in the feeding area
for food and drink,
asking each other,
"What do you think?"
They all agreed as they might,
surving is a desperate plight.
Scorpions in the wet kitchen sink,
snakes in the wet garden,
birds filling the birdbaths,
all drinking, drinking, drinking.
Many came for the water in the bucket
we put at the feeding area fence.
Morning glories struggling
to survive the 100 degree days,
clinging to Gypsys fence,
feeding the thirsty hummingbirds.
The dust rises from our footsteps
off the dirt road
as gypsy and I
take our early morning walk.
The section of our main paved road
they graded and graveled,
covered the roadside woods
with white dust,
making it look like
a Winter frost.
Their is an eeriness
about the dust covered trees
that hang over the road
as you drive through it,
a ghostly feeling of foreshadowing.
Green and blue snakes dead on the road
crushed by cars and trucks
as they venture out to look for water.
A piece of a rainbow clinging
to an early morning gray cloud,
moving with the wind,
a promise of rain to come.
The woods so wet last year,
so dry this year.
They say we need 4 inches,
we hope this rain is near.
When it arrives
all those so dry,
we will run outside and cheer.