A Calf's Bellow

As the strong wind blows,
The small calf bellows.
With no fodder in sight,
Every day, after night.
With much dust in the air,
The ground plain bare,
Just as well as the sky.
The small calf and it’s mother,
Journey on throughout the paddock.
Watching out for one another.
No grain, no rain.
Only strain, only pain.
This forever drought carries fear loaded on it’s back.
The Earth scorched.
Burnt. Dried.Cracked.


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