The Rains

“The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,

Extend their bloom in vain.

Come over the hills and far with me,

And be my love in the rain.”

—from A Line-Storm Song by Robert Frost

The birds have shuttered in their nests,

the bees have found the hive,

the butterflies have closed

their wings to rest, and we hear 

that far-rumble and swoosh 

of wind and then the gentle 

tapping before the downpour 

begins.  We huddle on our

little porch, you extend

your arm for shelter, and we

wonder at the rare beauty

of heavy showers that restore

the thirsty soil and refresh

the waiting flowers.

—C.L. Fisher, May 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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