When the gods returned

These fields turned first ochre and then barren,

when the gods returned.

Slow to anger but utterly perturbed by what they found,

these majesties, occasionally merciless,

sent a silent sigh

across these previously fruitful lands.

The heat lasted for weeks,

paralyzing creature and critters,

returning kin to savage tribes.

No wind or rain in sight, still,

only heat wallowing among us

until all resistance turns to dust.

Even if the gods aren’t angry,

these days, it seems, they have returned,

to harness humility among men.

Autumn will arrive at last,

but will the harvest consist of more

than raisins or wine

and a foreboding of exile?