When Rains Come Early
When it rains, they stay;
children at games in the street,
lovers in each other’s arms
on the lakeshore.
When the rains come,
tin roofs and tile
become instruments Rain plays
with a practiced touch.
Light and steady to lull me;
then sudden, the rhythm
beats a djembe,
strong and staccato!
A song of wooing
whooshes to wildness,
as up and down
Rain’s volume zooms.
When the rains come,
I cozy up in a flannel shirt
and gratefully make
Morelia hot cocoa.
When rains come unexpected,
plants lift and dance!
Families on benches in the Plaza
smile at the sky.
©Susa Silvermarie 2018
I read about the rain from someone else. I wish I could have been there! You really give me a sense of the experience I can visualize.