Sunday, August 8, 2010

Suspended Rain

Suspended Rain
by Gideon Burton

Unevenly, perhaps, but in the wet
of darkened summers comes a thrumming beat
beneath the evening crickets–not a threat,
a coming nearer, as though heavy feet
would stamp the moistened petals, shred the air
with thunder breaking, dying on the hills
beyond our vision and beyond repair.
And yet it balks, it falters, loses will,
exhales innocuous in pattered drops
to tickle sidewalks, freshen flowers full.
We'd hoped to feel the rushing without stop,
the charging of a hundred hungry bulls.    
     Bring back to me the edge of summer rain,
     each cloud a liquid martyr, bleeding, slain. 

Creative Commons License This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License. Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr - Voyageur Solitaire-mladjenovic_n