After a rain, everything is clean,
summer dust washed from leaves,
from the hides of cows and calves
gathered for church in shady shelters
to pray for the sweet scent of green.

We begin again to watch the sky,
look to heaven for perfect storms
and wait—dream of thunder
and draws of muddy water—
leaning forward into the future.


3 responses to “FORWARD

  1. Mighty fine poem, John!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You sound like a rancher in New Mexico! We thought we had the market on praying for rain!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. love your poetry – but over here I’m ready to welcome that summer dust…

    Liked by 1 person

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