Portrait of rain

The rain’s portrait
We used to surprise
In old note-books
And colored poems
And on the trees that crouch
Late at night
With the eyes of drunk swallows
And fingers that open onto the wilderness . . .
We remember it now on the edge of our secret passage-way
And wipe the remains of moisture
And seasons’ exile . . .
On the face of childhood
So that
We might by doing so:
Share the biography of water
Or
Change the shape of rain !

PORTRAIT OF RAIN