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.