Unrequited

Clouds roll in from the ocean,
their greys darkening.
“At last!” we cry,
in this our fifth year of drought.

We prepare to spend the day cozying in
to stay safe and dry,
while outside a longed-for deluge is about to let loose.

But then nothing happens.
All day we wait and hope and wait.
That evening on the news
they clear up our disappointment.

God has been taking an art class
and today he hung up in the sky
his favorite charcoal drawing
titled “Heavy Clouds,”
which he made himself,
and feels so proud of,
and with which he’s hoping
to surprise us into admiration:
“Hey, guys! Look!
“Guys!?
“Nothing??”