Distant thunder.
A common wood satyr
clings to the screen.
*
A close lightning strike
& a second later, raindrops,
the bleating of a fawn.
*
Through sheets of rain
at the edge of the meadow,
the dim outline of a doe.
*
Rain presses
on the horizontal leaves:
a random fluttering.
*
As I watch the storm,
a fly with quivering wings
explores my pants leg.
*
The lightning past,
the fawn stands on its hind legs
& bats at a low branch.
*
Towhee
Towhee
Towhee
Towhee
Towhee
Towhee
all through the downpour.
*
Their one day ends
in prostration —
orange daylilies.
*
The sky brightens,
but the storm’s darkness lingers
in rain-soaked leaves.
Really lovely, especially that ending.
Thanks, Jo.
Nice images, Dave. And a nice arc as the storm approaches and then fades away.
Thanks, Leslee – glad that worked for you.
orange daylilies, rain-soaked leaves. lovely. i’ve been wanting to write something about rain lately. you’ve given me a lot of inspiration with this.
I second leslee’s comment on the nice arc of the storm through the poem. I really like the way everything is grounded in actual natural observations — my favorite kind of poem.
I wish I could write poems like this. I am not like this. I do not have your quiet intensity. Bummer for me.
About the 45 tweets ~ I was clearly engaged in heady discourses with my fellow tweeters, namely tinydoctor and beth. You can’t blame me for playing on the playground, can you?
I love this part of your poem the mostest: Their one day ends / in prostration – / orange daylilies.
lissa – Glad to hear something I wrote lit a fire in someone else. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?
throwshiswords – Glad you liked. Reality is the ultimate writing prompt, I guess. Thanks for stopping by.
Dana – A bummer, eh? I tend to think of these things in terms of trade-offs. If I had your gift for embroidery, I might not work so hard at staying simple.
I definitely don’t mind your facility for twittering, and only wish I’d browbeaten you into microblogging sooner.