SATURATION

SATURATION
PM1302102

The rain has stopped long ago

but I can still hear it,

pitter, patter, pitter, patter,

moving along the eaves and

then down the spout, I can

even her it seeping into the

ground and the worms become

active with the first droplets

absorbed by their bodies.

The drops splash onto the deck,

wood, metal of the barbeque,

plastic pepsi bottles in the

recycling bin and the metal roof

of the shed.

The trees are shedding the bud

casings early this year because

of the warm weather and they

lay scattered across the top of the patio

table. Once they dry they will blow 

away with a stiff wind,

but until then I am sentenced to

sweep them up and then scatter

them across the lawn where

they belong.

Nature will know what to do

with them even when I do not.

Pods of rain have formed in the

small gullies in the yard and

the birds have come to wash and drink,

some stay in the trees,

on lookout for the cat who

is patient and can wait

for one of them to let their guard 

dow. I watch from the picture

window, steaming cup of coffee in

hand as I dream of going outside

when the rain stops,

but secretly yearning to run around

in the rain and get really wet.

Beads form along the top of the 

railing yet I know I will still

lean there the next time I go out

and my arms will get all wet.

I will walk out in my socks and

they will become soaked, but

I will still change them two or 

three times in one day.

The sun is not going to peek through

today, too many clouds,

even when the rain has stopped,

the clouds will not clear and

it will remain dreary throughout,

giving the sun time to rest and

to catch up on it's thoughts.

I can hide behind the clouds

for a short time but must always

come back out when they clear,

caught by surprise, a hole in the clouds.

MCC