No one can remember for sure
when the last sunny day was.
We know we have to be careful
about wishing the rain gone
because we could doom ourselves to
a summer of drought.
And we know there are places
parched and dry,
longing for this rain we would wish away.
We know that the rain is necessary for,
is responsible for,
our big trees.
We know these things.
But the grass is up past our ankles
surging toward our knees, needing to be cut.
Every one of last fall's acorns that remain
in the front flowerbed has sprouted.
We murder entire oak forests every day or two,
yanking up seedlings that haven't yet cut
the umbilical cord to their acorn.
There are puddles everywhere
and mud everywhere.
Mosquitoes
and ticks
buzz and hover
on the brink of a banner year.
Everywhere we look we see gray or green.
We are longing for blue.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2011
It looks like we might get a small reprieve this weekend, thank the heavens that have poured on us. But what will I be doing? Grade cards! ARGHH!!!!
Julie has the Poetry Friday round up today at The Drift Record.
