The dry twig snapped, crumbled into dust
Crisp ecru blades poked at my palms
The bone-dry curb made room for my footfall
I turned my face to the jewel blue sky
Rain they promised, snow a dusting
Another tall tale
Today’s prompt for National Poetry Writing Month is to make a poem that tells a lie.
We had little snow this winter. Summer water rationing started yesterday and means we are only allowed to water our lawns two days a week. We are dry here in the West. And today they promised we would have rain and some snow, a promise they’ve promised all winter.