Tonight in California
I will read this in the rain
when I am full and fed-
up with the news—
and listen instead
to it storm upon the roof,
to the impromptu chorus
of croaking tree frogs,
to the ever-tumbling roar
of water gushing down
a muddy creek
if I’m smart.
It’s all runoff
saturated ground, yet
the uncontrollable sound
pleases the primeval place
I need for reassurance
beyond the posturing politics
of way-too many men.
Besides, when living
off grass, it’s sacrilege
to ever complain about a rain.
John, well said with a nice diversion.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As always John, a thoughtful word painting that takes me far away from all the crazy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Red sky at night
Sailor’s delight
Red sky at dawning
Sailor’s warning
We are not sailors of the sea but we sail the troughs and peaks of the political waves of our time. I don’t turn the news on in the morning anymore as I don’t want to know what peak or trough we are in.
Love the poem, it epitomizes our times and the unsettled feelings of many.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Totally! Love the sound of rain on the roof…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully put.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful. Sight, sound, and philosophy
LikeLike