There's been so much talk about weird weather lately, I went hunting for a poem about wind and rain. Here is what I found.
by Pattiann Rogers
This is about no rain in particular,
just any rain, rain sounding on the roof,
any roof, slate or wood, tin or clay
or thatch, any rain among any trees,
rain in soft, soundless accumulation,
gathering rather than falling on the fir
of juniper and cedar, on a lace-community
of cobwebs, rain clicking off the rigid
leaves of oaks or magnolias, any kind
of rain, cold and smelling of ice or rising
again as steam off hot pavements
or stilling dust on country roads in August.
This is about rain as rain possessing
only the attributes of any rain in general.
And this is about night, any night
coming in its same immeasurably gradual
way, fulfilling expectations in its old
manner, creating heavens for lovers
and thieves, taking into itself the scarlet
of the scarlet sumac, the blue of the blue
Go here to read the rest of the poem.
Go here for a bio of the poet.
And for something completely different, why not check out Sara Lewis Holmes' 39 Reasons to Write, which was an answer to the meme I posted for my birthday.