The hectic day slows
to a stop.
into their lairs.
The street breathes
a sigh of relief.
The burned out sky
closes its eye.
of shady steps.
CLOUDBURST ABOVE THE LAKE
Drops of water are returning to the lake in large numbers.
Armies of them on invisible parachutes.
Success for each drop means
falling back to the lake with a decent splash
creating enlarging circles of impact before dissolving.
And each drop has only one chance to do this well.
The complacent kayakers are caught surprised
by the thirty-per-cent-chance rain becoming real. They mutter
under their soured breaths, “Who voted for this?!”
And the ducks give up their dabbling at the lily patch
to shelter under a birch tree. “What?! What?! What?!”
—What’s good about this hard-hitting rain?!
The birch bends down as if to answer. But “What? What? What?”
—The ducks can’t make out the answer
under the heavy downpour.