spring’s driving rain

drops me off

with a thud            

into sunshine

my shadow’s

dark reflection 

whispers ahead

to autumn’s maids in waiting

cloaked behind August.

I shield my eyes

from summer uncertainty.

 

Rain is mother bird

with liquid worms  

nest of chirping plants

I’m feel thirsty too

and know it will soon

quench all our thirsts

and all will feel right

as I have to admit

the sigh that I feel

when I give up

my transient ways

and come home

to wet