Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Forecast: Rain

 

Those who've paid many visits to "Chosen Words" know that I write about rain ... a lot ... maybe too much.

I suppose that can be traced to my roots, which reach all the way back to a rural beginning ... not on a farm, really, but in a country home ... just outside a small town ... a very small town.

It was there that I first learned the importance of rain. Too much, and our garden would suffer disastrous results ... too little, and our garden would suffer. So would we ... since we depended on a cistern for our drinking, bathing, cooking water ... and our chickens and Grandma's flowers depended on water from the well.

Rain was important ... but it had other roles, too.

I still remember the songs it played on our roof ... how soothing the sound of it could be on a spring night ... how it washed away the dust which drifted in from the gravel road ... the cinders from passing freight trains ... how it made puddles for a little boy to go splashing through ...

Little wonder that I've written so much about it.

I thank you for your patience as I've explored the mysteries and wonders of rain.

And here I go again:

 

FORECAST: RAIN

They said it would

come tumbling off

the slanting roofs,

go dancing down

the street, glancing

off the bare-limbed

trees, peppering

fields with kisses,

would greet us

in the morning and

be with us all day,

like a promise meant

to be kept, would

dampen our spirits,

but would sweep away

the lingering crusts

of winter, would sing

of the coming spring.

 

But it didn't do any

of that. It just

rained, and rained,

and rained and rained.

© 2006

(originally published in Capper's, now part of a book manuscript in search of a publisher)

 

***

Today's word: tumbling

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I liked the whole poem, but when it got to the kicker at the end...it added a punch that was wonderful.