Friday, March 26, 2010

Night Rain


Night Rain, Late March
Awake at two a.m.
and then again,
three-thirty,  eyes wide open,
under comforters and cats.
Listening to nocturnal blessing of
rain pounding on the hallway roof,
dripping into barrels just
outside my bedroom window.
The rain we haven't heard all winter,
falling through gravel mulch,
dry drifts of autumn leaves.
Soaking deep into roots of
cottonwood and olive.
Pores of the earth
drinking in the clouds,
the snowmelt
from the mountains miles away.
It may rain all night
on river, gardens, roof.
But there is purring at my shoulder.
I fall asleep til dawn.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Storm Clouds Moving East On My Day Off

STORM CLOUDS MOVING EAST ON MY DAY OFF

 I went outside just now
To move the trash cans to the curb.
The wind was like a hammer
Against my chest, my face.
The mountains in the east
Had vanished utterly
In curtains of fog and snow.
But it was clearing in the west,
Cloud patches tearing loose from ragged blue.
Back inside, I joined the cats
Watching from the bedroom window
In a patch of sun
As house finches emptied  feeders
In the plum trees' naked branches.
Looks like the weather guys were wrong.
Here in the valley
It will not snow today.