WALK BETWEEN STORMS
Rivulets of rain carve wrinkles
in the earth; feathered clouds
depleted of energy for now
glide listlessly overhead.
Worms, expelled from sodden soil,
form mysterious script on the path,
native code talkers writing
Liquid diamonds quiver on a strand
of spider silk, a bracelet adorning
the uplifted arm of a red bud tree
swaying to a rumba beat.
Rain-pasted leaves craft
a collage of natural hues
alongside the river running russet
with torn flesh from mountains.
Along the worn path miniature craters
comprise a moonscape
as wind wafts diminutive swells
across scattered puddles.
The fragrance of moist grass
is a heady aroma,
an aide memoire of
renewal and growth.
Returning home as rain begins again
I gaze through the icy window,
witness the writing of water
across it, and covet its clarity.