AFTER RAIN

Granite outcrops clean,
lichen islands
ignite in flames,

November’s sunset
after a good long rain—
gray back to green,

both slopes and flats—
creek stalled
a mile upcanyon,

black dots
of cows and calves
grazing ridgetops.

Glistening tree bough
drops diamonds glistening,
raining rain.

There is more to heaven,
I suppose, a giving-up
of tarnished flesh

and character,
collected wisdom
won the hard way

for eternity—
this canyon green
I’d rather stay.