by Dhana Nandini Rajaruban
He assured himself that the cockcrow ***
will overhaul his ill-starred existence,
fostering into his cripled destiny a
troth of affluence.
But squidging his hanker, the day emerged with a whammy.
Once again, the environs remained the same.
Sprawled fiendish sky basking in the sun.
Parched sod anticipating the drizzle.
Shrivelled loch's cranny widening its fissure,
deeper than usual.
Cadaverous livestock unable to feed on hale herbage,
slurping the last few drops left in the rill.
The crops drooping their head out of desperation,
as their achilles heel grew more and more feeble.
The farmstead at its terminal stage of frailty.
Because the climate capsized it all.
He felt a sharp twinge rolling through his bosom.
Yet, the poor farmer camouflaged his chagrin
and assured again himself that tomorrow there will be rainfall.
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