Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CRY OF THE HILLS, by ELEANOR YOUNG ELLIOTT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CRY OF THE HILLS, by                    
First Line: Quiescent under the brazen sky
Last Line: "send us the rain, lord, send us the rain!"
Subject(s): Drought


Quiescent under the brazen sky
Like patient animals, dumb with pain,
The huddled hills of the coast range lie
And meekly wait for the first fall rain.
Charred and embered by summer sun,
Dead and twisted, their grasses rest
In breeze-tossed windrows dead and dun
Like a filmy ash on each rounded crest.
Deep scarred canyon and rough crevasse
Have quite forgotten their springtime flowers;
Clothed with the sere and ashen grass
They pant with thirst for the longed-for showers.
The sun beats down through October haze
And the seared hills moan with a breath of pain,
"Now are the aching autumn days,
"Send us the rain, Lord, send us the rain!"





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