Albuquerque · poetry · summer

Waiting for Rain

After more than two months dry,
There it is, as shimmery and surreal as a mirage:
40% chance of showers.

The stirrings begin early in the afternoon:
The sparrows flit and chitter more erratically than usual, like a family calling sharply to each other across their home while preparing to evacuate.
The wind puffs and prowls like a dog who can’t make up his mind whether there’s a threat or not.

The people are mainly fractious,
Slow to give credence to any forecast for rain until they actually feel the drops, plump as water balloons,
Until they breathe in that fertile, life-giving scent, that olfactory union of heaven and earth.
They fidget uncomfortably under the barometric shift and uncommon humidity;
They sweat;
They breathe as through a snorkeling mask.

But still, hope jabs —- how can it not?
Cynicism mixed in sandy soil with wild flights of fancy: this is the recipe for a desert dweller.

Time will pass, winds and cumulonimbus peaks will rise;
Maybe it will rain, maybe it won’t.
For now, adaptation not negating faith, they watch and wait.

2 thoughts on “Waiting for Rain

  1. Beautiful! You have such a talent – I could “see and hear” every word you wrote!

    Love you!!

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