Sunday, June 2, 2019

Rain IV, written in 2009

It rained today. The puddles formed
quickly, coalescing with the hungry mud.
The droplets were big as hail.

I went out to explore the shredded quarry
of my garden. A few roots gleamed here and there,
serpents uncoiling slowly out of their hibernating homes.

Dead leaves were coming to life among
the stripped stones. Moss grew green flesh
over the bones once again.

I knew well this ritual of reawakening, new life
sprouting from old vestiges sedimented for a season.
But the rain had reached farther this time, closing over

riches deep-interred by years of longing remembrance.
The whiff of red rose caught me unawares.