ERIC SHARP's Blog – November 1999 Archive (1)

“Where is the rain?” Asked the parched and barren land.

“Where is the rain?” Asked the dried and dusty river bed.

“Where is the rain?” Asked the dead brush, the browning leaves of the trees, the once bright wild prairie flowers that now lay withered and dying, and the dried hard baked grassland. For they were all now hungering for the source of life.

“Where is the rain?” Asked the rotten carcasses and the bleached white bones of the dead animals that now littered the plains in… Continue