Summer began after long drives through passes
glistening with new grass, after she withered and writhed away from me.
I re-learned to dance in the sun, drenched with sweat from the light-play through leaves,
unstoppable, in a little excess.
Anticipation of the forced end
of summer walks, morning rides, and evening jogs,
keeps me in bed, nowhere to go, no dry path ahead.
With a little attitude, a little rain or not.
This winter cold makes me feel old,
and stuck in the bed, while a light rain is taking hold
of the pounding ache in my head.
A little cold, a little rain or not.
It’s reverberation is impossible to ignore.
To move would be to give up
the pelting percussion outside my French doors.
A little rain never stopped anyone.
Before the rush, the arguing
over the line to the bathroom,
and the news blaring one notch below the rhetoric,
Oh to hear a little rain a little longer.
So here, halting the day, hidden away, without a contingency, without an elixir,
Without the mix of light in the expanse,
A little bit away a little while longer,
A little rain never stopped anyone.
(Epilogue:
So if you reach out and I reply with a long furtive hug,
or if I only heard the question the third time,
while looking past you to the grey curtain, remind me,
A little rain never stopped anyone.)
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(from a dark day 1 year ago, now I love the rain, the changes, the clearing of the excess, the new growth of all life sprouting ...see the Haiku to come....)
