21 June 2009


the thunder comes first,
and wakes me from
my reading.

just up the valley, i can
see white curtains
of rain fluttering in the wind.

the first drops are so tentative,
leaving little marks in the dust
on the deck. just tiptoeing
across that stage.

then the deluge comes, the
entire ballet all at once,
washing away all
the warmth of the day.

then rain settles in
for the long haul -
like our black dog does for a nap -
first slumping down and then
stretching out sideways on the hardwood floor.

the rain
falls and falls
and falls
until sleep spreads across the day.

the yellow flowers,
just to the side
of the garden pond,
bend under the
weight of the water.

their thirst quenched
in a way the pond

will never know.



country girl said...

Wonderful poem; I can smell the rain.

Jessica said...

Gorgeous. I love poems about rain almost as much as I love rain itself.