shadow

Celebrating Rain

A robin is celebrating rain, giving his throat to it, pouring it down over the already dripping twigs and leaves, spreading the lawn with it the way we syrup a pancake. All future birdsong is riding, this spring, in trees, in cavities - in eggs, with their thin shells, blue or mottled - just as, soon, all the milkweeds of the world will ride on wind, sometimes with success. We hear the school bus rumble down the road packed full with children, also venturing out on the winds of morning, hope, each one launched and riding, watching rain strike each frail leaf, turn it deeper green.

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