Summer Rain


Rain comes marching across the fields
A rushing sound
And the dry, cracked ground
Thirstily drinks.

Withered trees wave their drooping limbs
In the fresh wind.
Branches sway and bend
Expectantly.

Small inhabitants of the grass
Quiver in awe,
Watching the rain draw
Its grey curtain.

A parched earth waits in eagerness
The coming rain.
Roused to life again
By lively wind.

Comments

Post a Comment

I enjoy hearing what you have to say! You can comment using your Google, LiveJournal, WordPress, TypePad or AIM account. If you don't have any of those, you can simply fill in one or both boxes on the Name/URL option. Feel free to leave me a link to your own blog or website - I'm always looking for more good things to read.

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting

Brown earth, Waiting beneath its blanket of snow Waiting for the Sun to give it life, Waiting for the first soft glow Of Spring green. Waiting...
Read more

Fairweather Blue

Image
This little story's been sitting patiently in my drafts folder for close to year now, waiting for the finishing touches. Many thanks to the handful of folks who read over it and offered some suggestions for sprucing it up a bit.  Maybe it's still not everything I'd like for it to be, but I feel like it's at least presentable. source unknown - Fairweather Blue - "Abigail! Are you wasting water again?"   "No, Mama." I fumbled, one-handed with the stubborn metal lever while water overflowed the edges of my cup and splattered to the tile floor.   "Here." Mama's hand closed over mine, shoving the lever back into place. "You oughtn't to waste, Abby. Sweet water is money." Several drops plinked slowly from the piping in steady punctuation of her words. "One, two, three," she counted them, "that's coppers down the drain. They bring it from inland and you know how we all must pay!”  
Read more