Autumn s come   And the leaves are lookin brown and dry.   Sun swings low,   A fruit resists the thirsty ground.   Uselessly,   I try to coax a cloud or two.   Searchin the skies,   Knowin there ain t nothing left to do.      Summer s turned to gold,   My garden s tired and old,   The dust swirls round my bowl -   And still, no sign of rain.      Faithfully,   I ve tended to my patch of land.   Year by year,   I ve scratched to keep my humble clan.   Now and then   Some thunderheads come out of the blue.   Trouble is,   They ve always been too far and few.      Summer s turned to fall,   The air is thick and cold,   I feel it in my bones -   But still, no sign of rain.         Silence shades my lonely claim -   Though all is gold,   there is no rain.   Still, I hear my singin bones      And I believe   Rain will fall.