I've never craved spring quite the way I did this winter. I love snow, fireplaces, Chirstmastime and all those wintry tidbits. This time around I wasn't feeling it. I'm not sure if it was the prospect of summer days at the lake or my bones that were permanently frozen since November, but I was pumped to see the calendar page finally flip to April. Even if that meant rain, rain, rain. Buckets of it earlier this week, but it's also nearing 60 degrees. Luckily (thank goodness!!!) there are ample spring rain poems to jive with the nature of the month. This one includes a dog. Shocking.
Jane Hirshfield
The dog came in
and shook off
water in every direction.
A chaotic rainstorm,
walking on four big paws.
The outside rain
fell straight,
in parallel lines
from a child's drawing.
Windless, blunt, and cold,
that orderly rain,
like a fate
uninterrupted by late love.
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