A Dry Wet

The leaf and leak patrols are out in force.
I hear the power mowers, and I see
the EBMUD driver, in his truck of course,
on cell phone while awaiting company.
Surmising leaks they seek to find the source;
our soaring bills denote a mystery.
The residents are diligent and good.
We’re dry and wasting in this neighborhood.


This entry was posted in Home, Poetry, Weather and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s