Sunday Rain

A sudden Sunday
of rain,
the first
we've had in weeks.
The earth
drinks like
a sailor
with a hangover
swilling water,
copping a new
buzz with each

The world
is gloomy blue
this Sunday,
my love
gone back to
higher climes.
And yet
I have this thread
of peace
woven through my
heart, binding me
together with
hope that something
might change

I've written of
Sundays before,
in some way they
seem to be my
favorite day.
But I don't
go abroad to
churches to
show my splendor,
nor revel
in the gossip filled
tabernacles where
men pray
outside the closet,
for deliverance from
the unknown.

I have all I
need before me,
surrounded by
the familiar things
I sing hymns to Sundays
and wet earth bursting
with drunken delight,
shadows of Monday
hiding in the wings,

hoping to
arrive on
time, born
fully grown and
mean as the

Home                      Next