lonely track of mud
that used to flow with
waters crystal clear
walk the bank, or step
down into a bed
cracked with care
it’s a sad thing to remember
what was once ever present
thirst for what
flowed with fervour
after every rainfall
memory doesn’t wet
sandpaper tongue
that leaves abrasions behind
in its search
for life giving moisture
plunge a walking stick down
it teases with the knowledge
that water used to live here
penetrating silt and sediments
what wrought this change?
a high sun
baked molecules to evaporation
forcing the circle
to continue at
rivers expense
travellers horror
all that’s left is to place
one foot before the other
repeating the shifting of weight
the forcing of movement
while I shake my canteen
let the slosh that sounds
caress ears with hope
that builds as the stopper is pulled
lips sip, tongue relishes
and the soul remembers
its preparations
we understood
drought would come
it will not stop the journey
forward
©2026 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Mary Grace Writing 