I live on the edge of the Great American Desert.
The Spanish called it the Llano Estacado.
We have plundered its soil
To raise our food.
We have sucked its aquifers dry.
Now an old scourge returns.
Drought.
No rain for months.
Heat.
Days above a one hundred
Fill the calendar.
The soil holds no moisture.
Plants die.
Trees die.
Insects disappear.
The desert returns.
We think we control our world.
We are fools.
Nature rules.
We will be reminded.
