Found

A good rain was what we needed

we said. A good hard rain.

The drought had

been too long and we had

seen too much of our desert

give up, turn from our much

too present sun, and die.

A good, hard rain.

When the rain came, we laughed

wonder at the rain's dropped

lace curtain and danced

in circles, our arms interlocked

like two lost puzzle pieces, found.

But as the rain drew nearer so

did the bass clap heralds shaking

the walls and the electricity leaping

wild in its own rough dance of

release so that we both dove

for the door, hungry for shelter.

//

Susan 07 Aug 06