By Lisa Huddleston

July 22, 2009


Rain Song


Ghostly fingers strum the trees

and strike the brass chimes

with intermittent tones of

distant, familiar

 melodies in minor keys …

Steady, ever steady, the rain

falls and beats

on the porch roof–

soothing, dulling


broken at irregular intervals

 by golden trills of birdsong

and rude blasts of chilling wind …

Sitting on the porch,

wrapped against the cold and

in sync with the melancholy morning,

I scratch the descant with my pen:

“This is the day that the Lord has made.

I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

And the summer rain keeps falling …

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