I think it was the suddenness of some of those summer showers in the portion of the country where I grew up ... the surprise element in the arrival of those huge drops ... which stuck with me.
No thunder or lightning ... just the sound of those plump, ripe drops ... especially when they went dancing through the cornfield.
There have been times, too, when an "encore" performance has occurred ... on a parked vehicle ... or overhead on the roof ... since there are no cornfields in this immediate area.
What music that was to a young listener like me ... and, I'm sure, to those thirsting rows of corn.
The poem:
SUMMER RAIN
It was an impulse,
a sudden shower,
plump, ripe drops
deeply dimpling
the dancing dust
before skipping off,
sending shudders
up thirsting rows
of corn, a sound
like a child running
a dry stick along
an old picket fence.
© 1996
(originally published in Anterior Poetry Monthly)
Today's word: thirsting
a sudden shower,
plump, ripe drops
deeply dimpling
the dancing dust
before skipping off,
sending shudders
up thirsting rows
of corn, a sound
like a child running
a dry stick along
an old picket fence.
© 1996
(originally published in Anterior Poetry Monthly)
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