Sep. 20th, 2005
Swinging in the Rain
Sep. 20th, 2005 06:15 pmFirst rain of the season last night;
Drops fell on the roof just as the sun was setting.
And once it was gone, the thunder started.
Sitting on the front porch swing with my daughter,
Watching and listening.
"That's 'rain,'" I tell her, as fat drops
Fall not from the sky, but from the branches of the oak trees
Surrounding the house.
They fall on the dried leaves coating the ground,
And make them rustle again;
Satisfying plops against the deck,
And metallic tinks from inside the storm drain.
The red earth drinks its first drops in months,
And the whole world seems content and at peace
As the last light fades, and all that is left are the sounds
Of the rain, and the thunder rolling through the trees,
And the rhythmic creaking of the porch swing.
Drops fell on the roof just as the sun was setting.
And once it was gone, the thunder started.
Sitting on the front porch swing with my daughter,
Watching and listening.
"That's 'rain,'" I tell her, as fat drops
Fall not from the sky, but from the branches of the oak trees
Surrounding the house.
They fall on the dried leaves coating the ground,
And make them rustle again;
Satisfying plops against the deck,
And metallic tinks from inside the storm drain.
The red earth drinks its first drops in months,
And the whole world seems content and at peace
As the last light fades, and all that is left are the sounds
Of the rain, and the thunder rolling through the trees,
And the rhythmic creaking of the porch swing.
Swinging in the Rain
Sep. 20th, 2005 10:31 pmFirst rain of the season last night;
Drops fell on the roof just as the sun was setting.
And once it was gone, the thunder started.
Sitting on the front porch swing with my daughter,
Watching and listening.
“That’s ‘rain,’” I tell her, as fat drops
Fall not from the sky, but from the branches of the oak trees
Surrounding the house.
They fall on the dried leaves coating the ground,
And make them rustle again;
Satisfying plops against the deck,
And metallic tinks from inside the storm drain.
The red earth drinks its first drops in months,
And the whole world seems content and at peace
As the last light fades, and all that is left are the sounds
Of the rain, and the thunder rolling through the trees,
And the rhythmic creaking of the porch swing.
Drops fell on the roof just as the sun was setting.
And once it was gone, the thunder started.
Sitting on the front porch swing with my daughter,
Watching and listening.
“That’s ‘rain,’” I tell her, as fat drops
Fall not from the sky, but from the branches of the oak trees
Surrounding the house.
They fall on the dried leaves coating the ground,
And make them rustle again;
Satisfying plops against the deck,
And metallic tinks from inside the storm drain.
The red earth drinks its first drops in months,
And the whole world seems content and at peace
As the last light fades, and all that is left are the sounds
Of the rain, and the thunder rolling through the trees,
And the rhythmic creaking of the porch swing.