Poem -- First Rain

Was out in The Shire again this weekend, helping The Luddites get their new shop set up. We worked in the rain, and in the snow. I was reminded of this poem I wrote almost 10 years ago when I was wiring new houses. [The formatting is more elaborate on my copy of this poem -- some day I'll have to learn how to introduce tab stops in HTML, but not tonight]

For The Luddites,





First Rain



Here it is --

Bright grey morning, almost warm.
Then sheets & sheets of rain pouring over this new roof.
First rain, introducing the long season.

Now, forests begin to smell like mushrooms,
elk stamp and steam in the cold trees.

This worksite smells of wet concrete,
wet flannel,
and cold feet.

These new houses are surrounded by moats of sticky mud,
extension cords smear it into hands & shirtsleeves
at the end of the day.

Apprentices complain,
and trout go off the bite.

Suddenly
candles at home,
hot meals,
and friendship

become startlingly more important
than long weekends and solitude.



('99 - '04)



Enjoy your artistic reminiscences,

Bp