When the Rain Don’t Come

When the Rain Don’t Come

A Cowboy Poem by Alan Nafzger

Everybody’s got a plan laid out in the good years,
when the grass is thick and the tank is full and nobody fears.
Plans are easy when the clouds cooperate and come —
but the plan don’t mean a thing when the rain just don’t come.

Drought’s the great accountant — she goes through every book,
she checks what you said you believed against what you undertook.
The man who prayed means it now when the topsoil starts to blow,
and the man who was pretending has got nowhere left to go.

You find out who’s got roots and who’s just standing in the shade,
when the shade burns off in June and the water table’s frayed.
The pretenders find a reason and a relative back east —
the believers tighten belts and feed the cattle last and least.

I’ve watched a dry year separate the planted from the blown,
the ones who built on something real and the ones who built on tone.
Everybody’s got a plan — but plans need more than ink —
they need a man who’ll hold his ground right up on the brink.

Everybody’s got a plan till the rain don’t come… then you find out who’s been prayin’ and who’s been pretendin’.

I’m Alan Nafzger. Appreciate ya!

Last Updated on April 11, 2026 by Alan Nafzger