Sunday, April 18, 2010



The cedars behind the house still drip
rain that fell from the sky an hour ago.
Wetness steams from the asphalt
shingles like the result of incantations.
And out over the valley
between us and the northern face
of Tiger Mountain, more mist mingles
with those spirits drawn
from every roof in town. Deer settle
in grassed clearings, as birds resume
their verbigerations in the alders
to the rhythms of the dropping rain.

Dan Morris 4/17/10


koralee said...

Love this...your images is amazing!!! Thank you for visiting me and grabing my to see if I can find yours...but one thing I know for sure is that I will add you to my sidebar...can't miss another post of yours. xoxoox Hugs for a wonderful day.

Sarah Von said...

Such a lovely poem!

I just wanted to pop over and say thank you for entering the giveaway for my Karma Cards over on the Much Love blog. We've got a few sets left for sale if you're still keen! (cough, shameless self-promotion, cough) ;D

lindsey said...

rhythms of the dropping rain. love this one.


Stephanie said...

I think this is my favorite one of the whole month. Gorgeous.