
With only a few drops to touch the patio blocks
i can return home again,
to picture window mornings watching the birds
sift through the rain in natural habitat,
I do recall the street became gradually river like,
creating the later streams in culverts
home-made sailboats would venture throughout
the city neighborhoods entertaining
all the children that right now were waiting
patiently, for that sun burst that shouted mom’s
‘Yes, go outside and play now.’
~
While rains soaked our bodies to such a degree,
we might eventually accept nature’s wrath
sweet and warm like in summer’s romantic fire
while together we strolled watching smiles
knowing we are drenched to the bone alive
anticipating that lentil soup in the afternoon,
the wet paths that squished with each step
would cause an occasional stomp
a fit of laughter and the chase while finding
a new pool to match previous success.
~
When sitting by the river with my line in water,
as the light mist begins to show
its true mystery along the riverbank’s shadows
I will remember you so precisely,
fishing pole in hand and teaching me your patience
I could stand for a minute while you
always managed to pull a beautiful brown
from a back yard creek small enough
to only imagine a child’s homemade sailboat.
~
Outside, the rains will cleanse our natural world with steady
rhythms in sound and purpose, while I (we) imagine fond.
~
* photo found on scienceabc
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