A Desert Feast

Forks of lightning from a hungry giant,

Eating from the bowl of the desert.

He finds nothing that will still his hunger,

And cries great rainy tears, salty with the sadness

Of a thousand oceans.

His breath blows across the still desert, to cool the

Hot atmosphere and perhaps find something palatable,

But all that lies beneath are desert creatures

And mockingly sharp cacti,

Unpalatable to his delicate sensibilities.

He rages for hours, and finally, exhausted,

He gives up and goes home, drawing his cloud blanket

Behind him as he goes, leaving the sky clear,

Letting the clean, bright moon wash

The bowl clean, so someone else can enjoy it,

And let the desert drink again.