THOSE ARE THE DAYS

                        to the particular pitter patter pattern
                        on the tin roof, that has never been
                        and will never be again. Amen.

                            - Neil Meili (“Rain In January”)

Some days, it does rain
after the work is done,
when unsaddled horses
let the sweat run, before rolling—

when the dog stays close
to appreciate whatever it is
that holds your attention—
proud to know you.

We tip our cup
to random days, listening
to an ever-changing rhythm,
dry beneath a tin roof

as yesterday washes
down the draw—and
in the gray distance,
tomorrow waits its turn.

Amen.

One Response to THOSE ARE THE DAYS

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