Thirsty Midweek Wet

Misty curtain, first in the hills, then lower,
across the sky, hiding the early morning sun
after a dry dawn, and painting the valley orange,
next to the blacks and the grays of the incoming
front, a sharp
line sliding in fast, down from
Alaska.

Softly, at first, then harder, turning sidewalk and street
to black, shiny, slowly becoming
wet, until rivelets formed next to the curb
flowing into the dry iron grids of the
drains. Drains draining
away.

More rain, wetter, puddling in the dirt, not yet
soaking in, the dust still dust, not yet
mud.

Withered leaves of dried up dandelion, reviving
perking up, becoming plump again, green
wet leaves with drops falling into the earth,
soon to make blooms again, more seed for
next year’s weeds.

Windshield wiper smear, again and
again, until, finally, clear with each
swipe, back and forth, glass now clean, wet –
the old familiar dance rhythm back again
just for an hour, just enough to get things
wet.

9/09