God loves the rain, not us. Ours is what spills over, what we look for that finds us: innocence by association. Cloud shadows feel their way, rapid and blind, over the face of the prairie. Pine trees atop the ridge row the world into the dampblack sky. God's mistress rides by on a feather of water. After she is gone her fragrance is everywhere. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I MAY, I MIGHT, I MUST by MARIANNE MOORE NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR WALT WHITMAN by DAVID IGNATOW THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR |