People are putting up storm windows now, <br />Or were, this morning, until the heavy rain <br />Drove them indoors. So, coming home at noon, <br />I saw storm windows lying on the ground, <br />Frame-full of rain; through the water and glass <br />I saw the crushed grass, how it seemed to stream <br />Away in lines like seaweed on the tide <br />Or blades of wheat leaning under the wind. <br />The ripple and splash of rain on the blurred glass <br />Seemed that it briefly said, as I walked by, <br />Something that I should have liked to say to you, <br />Something . . .the dry grass bent under the pane <br />Brimful of bouncing water . . . something of <br />A swaying clarity which blindly echoes <br />This lonely afternoon of memories <br />And missed desires, while the wintry rain <br />Unspeakable the distance in the mind!) <br />Runs on the standing windows and away.<br /><br />Howard Nemerov<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/storm-windows/
