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"After a Dry Spell"


The rain, at first,

sounds like there’s someone

tapping at the window,

but the only one out there wanting in

is my half of a reflection in the glass.

But now, there’s more of them,

not just thumping against panes

but pounding the roof as well

and even a few whacking away

at the walls, the doors.

Then the rain slows

and these prospective interlopers

are more timid in their knocks,

less sure that inside is where

they want to be after all.

Then it stops altogether.

The shower has passed.

Puddles abound.

Grass glistens.

The rain is home at last.

 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Examined Life Journal, Evening Street Review and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Harpur Palate, Poetry East and Visions International.


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