Don’t You Love the Rain?

Don’t you love the rain?

Rhythmic slapping

of water drops

set free from heaven,

sputtering on a blacktop road.

Newly plowed fields

grow dark, moist,

and furrows

fill from wetness.

The fresh smell

of pines is released

into a gentle wind,

and the

noise of thunder

grumbles playfully

afar off, above

a mountain

somewhere.

Don’t you love the rain

as it falls

heavier, and

the white fluffy

heads of dandelions

are stripped

from their stems,

and fat maple leaves

dance,

extended from their

branches?

Impatient flashes

of nature’s

electricity streak

across a low

gray sky, and

I watch,

safely perched

behind the screen

in my window—

hoping

it will never end.