Saturday, April 25, 2009

Autumn Dreams



There's something so soothing about the music of rain. It cradles us as we drift between sleep and that which becomes reality.


It wasn't raining this morning as I stirred, turned my pillow cool side up, and went drifting off again, but I thought about the coolness of that pillow, later, while I was shaving, thought about the sound of rain ... and about this poem.


So here it is again:


AUTUMN DREAMS


Softly, the rain
descends, puddling
in the darkly
glistening street,
pausing to quench
the thirsting roof
before dripping,
a muffled sighing,
to the ground.


Wind chimes stir,
and the cows
are suddenly home,
winding along
that narrow path
where the sun
lately streamed.


I stir, savoring
quilted warmth,
softness of pillow,
go drifting off
again like a puff
of milkweed.
© 2000
(originally published in St. Anthony Messenger)

Today's word: puddling

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

hello,
so nice to read the sounds of your words
i lost track of you my poet friend
a great soft write.
hannah ...

hannahthemaid said...

hello again,
new to this,
and the comment went in as anonymous,
but another chance to say i have missed your chosen words.
hannahthemaid ...