Hat

She had been praying so long for rain to come,
wilting under the glare of the punishing sun,
she took her eye off the ball, the first time that week.
A drop bounced off her head, trickled down her cheek,

an unexpected tear in the thick dust of the dry season.
Monochrome clouds rolled in fast across the sky,
and another raindrop hit her just above the eye –
it was time to find shelter from the coming storm

in an open space place that’s desolate and forlorn –
and there it was, caught up in the sand and weeds,
someone else’s old news, words she could not read,
to fold into a dunce’s hat to cover up her head.