Member-only story
Rain On a Summer Day
A poem of the scents of summer
The air cools, the leaves of the trees lift
And flutter in the rising wind.
The clouded sky casts no shadows
But gives the light an almost luminous clarity.
I look across the yard, past the trees
And the old wire fence
To the rusted tin shed across the alley.
The still bare branches of a pin oak tree
Scratch across its roof as the wind grows.
Blossoms, neither pink nor red
On the dark branches of an untamed Japonica
Seem to float in front of the rusted tin shed
And glow in the unusual light.
The wind builds and carries the smell of rain
Spattered on hot pavement
And the scent of fresh-cut grass
The rain is close.
A few drops, fat drops, of rain begin to fall
Then the wind dies and the rain fades, stops.
Just a tease.
Then the wind grows, and I hear the roar
Of the approaching rain
The real rain.
