"Darfur is Not the Red Planet"
The aquifer is our salvation
spread out like an amoebae
underneath the wagging corn,
the stalwart poplars.
I leave the water running
as I rinse the dinner plates.
A tiny Niagara boils up
out of an empty cat food can,
Victoria Falls’ heavy veil
cascades down the crusted
Dutch oven. My children
splash water all over the bathroom.
I untangle the garden hose
from its Celtic loops
and rain a rainbow over
the bright green lawn.
Water, wet, moist, damp.
Liquid, spongy, moisture,
drink. Who ever heard
of a desert without canvas
canteens? Or walking miles
to the town tap.
The desert will kill them
I read
but that is thousands of miles
away and who ever heard
of a living lake on Mars?
© 2008 Teresa White
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