One to Grow On

It's awfully quiet here this morning. Even the smoke has cleared away from last night's barrage of Fourth of July celebrations.

I'm not complaining, mind you. I like quiet.

And I've nothing against Independence Day celebrations. But it was just a bit noisy in our neck of the woods last night. So noisy at one point that I had a little trouble hearing the local news ... about Fourth of July celebrations.

Some of them were interrupted by rain. The threat of heavy weather dampened the turnouts at some celebrations, too.

And here, just about the time the local celebrations seemed to be reaching their peak, rain ... heavy rain ... came galloping through ... but it only produced a brief pause in the backyard festivities.

Ka-BOOM! They were at it again.

All of which ... finally, you say ... brings me to today's poem. OK, so it's a bit off-season, but we can take a little of that during these steamy summer months.

Not the fireworks, but last night's sudden, heavy rain brought this poem to mind, and I got busy, digging it out:

ONE TO GROW ON

Winter rain

comes sliding down

the glistening trunk

of a sleeping tree,

delivering a sip

to be savored

when it awakens

early next spring.

© 1995

(originally published in Capper's)

***

Today's word:

glistening

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

I'm sorry it has reached the boiling point there, Southernmush ... but hold onto those thoughts of winter rain. That's how I make it through the summer ... and, I keep reminding myself, we're another day nearer to cooler weather ... I hope. And now I'll see if I can find another winter poem in the cooler.