The day the rain comes, all the bent backs of the old and faithless become straight again.
Slack mouths with whiney sentences become radio’s of positive knowledge.
A sea of utes appear as if to breed momentarily before returning to the bush.
Men hang on the streets gossiping, but wearing their serious faces.
Women shop confidently with golden crops on the way.
Kids have pocket money and stuff is acquired with the ease of asking.
Publicans stock frantically, because the books will look good tomorrer’, the day after the rain came
The breaking of a drought