The trees of May are green, Full of themselves, wetter each dawn, The morning stars sing, the squirrels run. Our bird feeders need daily refilling, the hot Azaleas enhance their orange and fuschia tints, The rhododendrons puckered dryly inside Their big buds begun to force themselves out, Apple blossoms lie in shallow pools At the feet of their trunks. All week relentless rain Soaks the ground, beats the roofs, rat-tat Races down the gutters. I imagine it falling into the Hudson River Around the scows and barges. I imagine it Splashing the yellow slickers of road crews. I imagine that I am farms and towns stretched out The width of New Jersey and Pennsylvania Flat on my back looking up at a gray sky. The grays shift, it must be windy up there, I feel the rain batter me, how good it is, cleansing the air, Pocking my skin -- Good, good, like sex after childbirth When the body is keen For pleasure again. http://www.wlu.edu/~shenano | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WORDLY WISE (10) by MOTHER GOOSE SONNET: 33 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE SWAN SONG OF PARSON AVERY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER INVITES POETS AND HISTORIANS TO WRITE IN CYNTHIA'S PRAISE by PHILIP AYRES |