The whispering trees recite rhymes
Written by rain.
Poems rustle, flutter to the gutter,
Clutter up the street.
Ankle-deep in poetry,
I reach for a rake.
12-16-02
Tag Archives: rain
Drop
It may be
we’re not born with souls
but receive them slowly
one drop at a time
from our parents,
siblings,
friends & lovers.
Each lending a drop
to our vessels.
And the kindness of
strangers
is like rain.
Thus, we live long enough
that our cups runneth over. mjh
4am 4/6/12
Whispering, “Rain!”
In this dry year,
the cottonwood leaves linger
late in December.
They rattle
a parched prayer
or poem, perhaps.
Whispering, “rain,”
they stay long past
their fellows fallen
into mulch in the gutter.
Whispering, “rain,”
they cling to their post
on sacred duty.
Whispering, “rain,”
they cannot let go
as clouds gather.
Whispering, “rain,”
they will not drop
until they are answered.
Whispering, “Rain!”
mjh
12/16/02
Listen to Whispering, “Rain!” (35 seconds)
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