Drought In The Suburbs (Poetry)

The pressure’s been building
all afternoon —
the trees hunched motionless
every twig grown tense — expectant
the aching air on edge

A shimmer of grit-worn heat
hangs its gauzy curtain
baffles the street
with wavering reflections
tarmac bubbles a thin protest

A rumble in the distance
breaks the hush
far-off a smudge of cloud
anchored low on the horizon
dallies there — stubborn

The neighbourhood takes on
an increasingly anxious look
lawns pleading — parched brown
for weeks banned hoses droop
like loose-coiled rubber snakes

A gap before

one more half-hearted growl —
thunder’s parting tease
a muttered threat swallowed
                                reluctantly
today’s storm forecast proven to be
a seaweed-dry mistake in calculation