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10/25/10 - (1)
New-World Rain
After weeks of autumnal silence, Late October's waning-full-moon rain Composes our sleep's intimacies Into mellifluous fantasia-phrases, As though hoping to squeeze, from the breeze, The sweetest strains of serene beauty.
Its adagio, largo, scherzo, and allegro Insinuate our naked dreams, With their slow, swift, precipitate whispers, As if its lyrical drops were notes — Ink spots splotched, on staff paper, By an inspired Dvořák sky.
All night, our blood keeps beat With the lightning's baton, the thunder's tympani, The pizzicato wind's violins, Until the rain's coda opens onto morning And we awaken, wet to our bones, Reveling in our own new-world symphony.
10/25/10 - (1)
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