Saturday, August 4, 2012

The Leaky Roof

The morning seemed to start off with a bit of fog ... most of my mornings seem to start that way, even when the sun is shining brightly ... so it was no surprise when ... I woke up ... late, thirsty ... thinking foggily of clouds, rain, roofs, leaky roofs ... and this poem came to mind:


We knew just where
to put pots and pans
when the rain came
suddenly weeping
through our roof,
its pit, pat, pit-pat
lullaby lingering
long after the storm
had droned off into
distant, grumbling
thunder, leaving
a morning residue
of splatters
and puddles,
blankets on a line,
featherbed sprawled
like a newborn calf
broadside of the sun.
© 2001

(received an honorable mention award in Ohio Poetry Day competition; subsequently published in my first collection, Chance of Rain ... Finishing Line Press, 2003)

Today's word: grumbling

1 comment:

Brendan Gertner said...

It’s nice how you put poetry in such a topic. :) I like the part that talks about taking out the pots and pans when the roof starts leaking. It’s cool thinking how one can memorize where to put every bowl when the roof starts dripping, right? But I guess it will never be enough. Proper treatment will always work best.