A Week Without Water
Some days are golden and sunful,
Orange painted toenails in watering holes—
Some downpours and missing umbrellas,
Holding jackets above flaming halos,
But most are stuck between
And fighting just to breathe.
A rain most anticipated,
Tongues out and drying up,
Soaking up desert heat,
Full feeling and heavy smell,
Humid and dewy on plastic leaves,
Gray so-near purple.
I am soybeans, begging for nourishment.
You are cacti, hidden preserves.
Where are you?
BayLee Wetzel is a senior majoring in English with a double minor in Creative Writing and Spanish. She enjoys reading and writing poetry and works of fiction, and she one day hopes to have published novels upon novels. When not writing, BayLee spends time with her family and cats, plays video games, or scrolls for too long on TikTok.