Finally, Rain

Finally, rain,
Met by the delighted cackle of a neighbor’s babe.
Come Inside…Come Inside…Come Inside—
There’s no shelter ‘neath that old lawn astrolabe.

O, the fantastic turns of waves of rain,
While its grumble of thunder shakes our lives.
Hurry Home…Hurry Home…Hurry Home—
To your children, and husbands, and wives.

The trees bend and lift,
To catch every little thrown drop of rain.
Shut the Door…Shut the Door…Shut the door—
Before we soak the atrium again.

Tempest passed,
Yet the gutters riot run full still.
Ca Caw…Ca Caw…Ca Caw—
Calls from the elm at the top of the hill.

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on May 4, 2018, in Poem and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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