Saturday, January 14, 2006

Rain

The day is new.
It vibrates with freshness
purified by the rain.
Rain has washed away the snow.
The earth is freshly laundered.
Drops of water sparkle
on the windowpane.
Mist races across the hill
dressing the naked trees
in ethereal white robes.
A crow flies through the mist.
The fresh washed air
permeates my spirit
cleansing me.
A raindrop
runs across my fingers….
across my hand
down my wrist.
From his perch
at the edge of the wood
the sharp-eyed hawk sits
guarding the bird feeder.
The air is entwined
with the smells
of fresh rain and wood smoke.
copyright 2006

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