It\u2019s not raining here. But perhaps one of you somewhere is reading this in a warm town while rain falls romantically on your tin roof. And the air is warm enough that you could walk outside for a little splash in your flip flops. Perhaps I\u2019m nostalgic because this is my first \u201csummer\u201d in San Francisco where it\u2019s constantly in the 60s and I keep forgetting it\u2019s July.\u00a0 But I just needed to read this poem today and be reminded of that metallic feeling of rain coming on a 90 degree day. So, wherever you are, rain-appreciator, this one\u2019s for you. (P.S.\u00a0 Sorry the poem\u2019s a little sad.)<\/p>\n
by Jane Kenyon<\/p>\n
The grasses in the field have toppled,
\nand in places it seems that a large, now
\nabsent, animal must have passed the night.
\nThe hay will right itself if the day<\/p>\n
turns dry. I miss you steadily, painfully.
\nNone of your blustering entrances
\nor exits, doors swinging wildly
\non their hinges, or your huge unconscious
\nsighs when you read something sad,
\nlike Henry Adam\u2019s letters from Japan,
\nwhere he traveled after Clover died.<\/p>\n
Everything blooming bows down in the rain:
\nwhite irises, red peonies; and the poppies
\nwith their black and secret centers
\nlie shattered on the lawn.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s not raining here. But perhaps one of you somewhere is reading this in a warm town while rain falls romantically on your tin roof. And the air is warm enough that you could walk outside for a little splash in your flip flops. Perhaps I\u2019m nostalgic because this is my first \u201csummer\u201d in San […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":999,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[101],"class_list":["post-649","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-poetry"],"yoast_head":"\n