Dry as a Bone
Sun bleaching bones
to a brilliant white
Carcass long gone
In 120 degrees Fahrenheit
Separated from his herd
Some time ago
Never seeing them again
He headed to the oxbow
The stream had dried up
Nothing left to drink
Wandering aimlessly
He had to think
Planetary conditions harsh
His skin burning
Heat games in his mind
became more disturbing
His hide was drying out
Hydration a faraway dream
Weakness in his legs
Now beyond extreme
He fell to the ground
Wishing the dizziness to stop
As he drew his last breath
He felt the first raindrop
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
In response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt – Bone