Rain After A Dry Spell Poem by Kirby Wright

The promised storm has come.
The weathermen are ecstatic.

Rain washes the bare limbs
Of the poplar.

Gopher mounds
Flatten and melt.

A distant eucalyptus
Sways in the hills.

The propane tank
Greens as if freshly painted.

The ground releases
The burnt grass smell of drought.

This change complicates matters;
Now the dead are expected

To be more than ornamental.
They are expected to recover.

The tumbleweeds are amused.
They roll and spin

In the wind
Like unsupervised children.

Loops of razored wire
Sparkle on the fence line.

A white egret lands in the field.
The earth shivers with life.