The rain sleeps <br />through the morning <br />leaving a hunger <br />in the fields. <br /> <br />It goes on <br />for days <br />this July <br />and come <br />evening late <br />August, <br /> <br />a grey swell, <br />fingers clenched <br />rumbles across <br />the sky <br />squeezing <br />porous clouds. <br /> <br />It comes <br />again <br />this rain <br />that scents the air <br />and feed the fields, <br /> <br />this time we <br />welcome it.<br /><br />Theresa Daly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/draught-2/
