It laid the cows down, though no rain promised
From the aching squint of sky
That glared and glimmered and would not relent
As bright as glass, hugest bowl,
Cerulean and white

Indeed because of no glittering relief,
To be drank by the cracked cake of earth,
Were the cows laid down; no thirsty bellow
Had energy to sound

The blue horizon was met
By a swarm of invisible insects, whose wings
Shimmered and sang across sweeping fields
Of arid land

And even the insects, pellucid, watery dance,
Were scorched; and made ponds upon the road
That, volatile, tricksy, were disappeared
When one poor creature ventured close,
Before parched bones cracked to dusty ground
And two rolled up to one—-one empty yellow eye.