Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1710509-After-the-Rain
by fyn
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1710509
In the first few moments after the rain stops falling
Surreal quiet descends after the rain
then listening deeply:
a faint plop as leaf sheds a drop
to fall silently into the moistened grass,
a mourning dove ruffles its feathers--
they love rainy weather
then opts for a nap, head beneath wing.
Wet footprints in the grass-
a faint trail. It needs mowing
but the blades caress my ankles
with cool wetness. Under
the silvered maple , it rains still:
drops plop on my face as the tree
shakes off the weather, each leaf
reaching towards the sun
yet it is twilight beneath the canopy.
I sit damp on the rope swing,
movement scattering random sprinkles
sifting down from green life above
finally wetting the dust at my feet.

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