The Rain Dance Poem by sue aspell

The Rain Dance

The night the trickle started

was the beginning of his undoing.
Stooping to unlace, the first dropp fell
soaking, numbing his fingers.

Fumbling, he finally separated
foot from shoe, as mizzlers coursed
continuously from his fringe. Through

a proscenium arch he wathed himself
dance the rain dance and wondered.

Laces snaking from his shoes, burrowed
into ground, sopping guy ropes
slipping, aided by tears dropping

from eyelashes and sky, His vision blurred
for an instant and the earth sucked dry
his sappy juice, for the roots buried beneath.

Stepping sideways from his shoes, he left the
puddle to one side and stood under the sun.

Watching the rain flood upon his right,
he basked in the rays, until blinded by purple
the deluge began. He welcomed the

whishlers as they bounced from his sight
beating upon drum skin, spraying violet,
as he danced the rain dance.

She watched through the window

as droplets coursed their routes through
dust and dirt, streaking mascara black
into rivulets, gathering momentum

as they neared the bottom and pooled upon
the sill. Expanding into lakes, cascading
fountains now, the mizzlers jumped for joy

but dried before they touched the ground.
Staring straight ahead, squared neatly

within sides, she caught a glimpse of light
from the east. Rosy pink hues
blushed inton puddles lending an airy view
through soot-filled lashes, rising from

blue to violet, basking in the rays.
Blinded in an instant, arid eyelids widened.

She opened the window and stepped forward
onto the foot of the rainbow and danced

the rain dance.

Steve Hagget 08 September 2006

Wow - an intriguig and beautifully woven poem. Thanks for this Sue, Steve

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sue aspell

luton, U.K.
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