The metaphors are running dry:

you can step in the same river twice,

indeed, as often as you fancy,

if you like standing in the shaming dust

                                                               of drought.

Doubters claim it’s only a blip, that ships

long-wrecked, are always appearing,

exposed with villages (drowned by reservoirs),

a zillion old bicycles, unexploded bombs

and Texan dinosaur footprints.

Would-be wits say that fish ought to 

take the highway if they’re 

that keen on spawning. Changing 

anything mid-stream in evolution is

almost laughable. 

No horses will be taken to water

and even Hockney will struggle to

make a bigger splash, or even a tiny drop.

The heat has to stop, sometime, but will

Big Decisions finally be made, will 

Leaders truly get their feet wet

or will we stay up mud creek without a

                                                                    paddle?

Will these droughts all just be water under the

                                                                     bridge?