Rainy Season

Rainy Season

*from One With Willows, copyright 2019 by Joan Myles*

When the rains come at last,

there is no mistaking what will happen.

One person uncovers the cistern

he dug years ago against thirst.

Another brings out buckets

to place beneath the leaky roof.

Oh, let me be the one

who opens windows and unlocks the door,

who presses her face against the screen,

inhaling the mist like life itself.

Let me gather the children

to trace raindrop outlines

upon the window glass,

to clap and dance with joy

for gardens yet to be

and for promises kept.

4 thoughts on “Rainy Season

  1. This was the perfect morning for me to read your poem, “Rainy Season.” I woke up to the sound of stead rain falling on the roof, splashing on the sidewalks and from the rainspouts and filling up the 5-gallon buckets on the patio. I collect the raindrops in buckets so I can water my plants with it in the days ahead. This is the perfect morning for loving the rainfall. I love the imagery in this poem. Thanks for sharing it, today.

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