Somilia and The Anasazi  [Back]
                                  
The grass grew tall, 
the hoofed ones ran all day, 
till the rain ended.
With the plain baked dry 
by the blistering sun 
the water came to an end.
We dug our wells 
and touted our water, 
but the lazy 
and the greedy 
could not wait their spell.
The raids began. 
They killed us, their own, 
for what? 
A meager bone.
For protection 
we retreated to the mountains. 
High on the cliff face we were safe. 
Safe as a bird in a guilded cage. 
But the ones in valley below were 
sure to perish.
Will the drought ever end? 
Will we ever learn to cooperate 
instead of bickering over the last few drops?
Will we ever learn how to live?

 3/2/93 by
     Jason Eagle