The Dreadful Rain: A springtime poem

The rain fell today with such purpose that it must have been intent on washing away the last of winter.

 It cleansed the lilacs of their remaining brown shells–clinging to the ends of their spindled branches.  Branches that, a few weeks ago were bare but now spouted proudly their fresh green buds.

The dirt on the windows, gathered from so many cold mornings of condensation, washed away in a fury of driving water.

The hearty tulip greens–muddy from bursting through the damp frosty ground and now standing proudly in their neat rows along my walk.  Clean and ready to flower.

The rosebush’s tender reddish green leaves buffeting in the wind–happy to have survived their first great test.

 The garden gargoyle.  Grimacing slyly the way he does.  Elbows and knees free of moss and ready for the sun.

He’s not the only one!


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