Tag Archives: rain
State of affairs
Radboud in the rain
Passing the church
Awaiting your deep warmth and endless long days
A discourse of rains, of intense blues and greens.
One is gone and fights go on,
and not a few have the shakes.
I’m ashiver myself,
though your sun would bisect
this dripping wind
and give us the hope in-between.
Is it enough? It’s never enough
for the cloth-clad accuser (April’s sore loser)
still wanting to know:
who’s the righter for being colder?
Rain
Another of her secrets she shares
You’re not made of sugar, she says
when it’s raining.
She can see me not melting.
What rain was like in a parking lot in P.A.
It’s not at all but
I’ll say it, like
open-heart
surgery
and not in rivulets
but sheets
and who knew
the pavement sloped down?
I’m going to bed to think of you, sky
Of why you wait
and the things that you say.
What was that trick
you did with the rain –
swirling to scatter
leaves, but no matter,
one day you’ll keep
your promise again?
Where it was shallow the grass poked through
Muddy furrows thoroughly filled –
the yard’s a lake.
You came across,
you in your boots
and green wax coat.
You had the mail,
the first in weeks.
The sun was shining then,
except for the clouds,
and where it was shallow
the grass poked through.
