Drought

[Bunx]

Drought

Gazed through the burnt countryside,
this forgotten land,
once a field of blossoms,
soil for the plowing man.

Witnessed green grass.
Now which, is but a memory.
Burnt trees black, in forgotten rows.
A vision of our destiny.

Crunch from the yellow grass,
thirsts for touch before death.
Hope withers, as if rain from sky.
Caretakers tears, won't stop fires eye.

Eight years pass, March the fifth.
Shadows move covering decay.
Cold carries cloudbursts, cleansing certainty.
That this drought will never end.

[dukealien]

I find a few things here confusing and am tempted to critique - for example, could do with about 3% fewer words.

The format, mostly single-line sentences after the first verse, is disturbing at first, then puts me in mind of pacing off the distance between one scene of destruction or decay and the next.

Makes a strong impression; wonder if, given the date, this is a historical reference.

[Bunx]

Hey Duke,
Thanks for the feedback, I wrote in in response to traveling to California during the end of the Drought.
I'll look into re-wording a bit!
Thanks again!