[WayzataJOHNN]

Post Rinse Cycle (after the rain)

Taste the night air,
sweet with the kiss of the rain,
cooling down the heat of day,
and lifting a tired spirit.

I love the sounds,
the whisper of tires through puddles,
the soft rustle of clean leaves,
the night birds beginning to sing.

So perfect and so fair,
nothing now to shun or distain,
and we rise up from where we lay,
marveling how everything seems to fit.

Even the neighborhood tom begins his rounds,
as our thoughts clear, to un-muddle,
as we watch water drip from the eves,
our repressed selves begin to take wing.

[Soaring Feather]

Tasting night air after a rain
cool on the tongue
drizzling down an over heated body
refreshing as a cold peach
while soaking my feet in a bucket of ice
licking the peach juice from my finger tips
sticky sweet succulent, with the aroma of an orchard
hiding on it's skin.


Sitting there in the alley watching
the bugs play under the street lamp
old tom yowelings echo thru the alley
while an irate old drunk throws an old shoe at him.

And the cool night air kisses my cheek
as the soft breeze blows
and catches the hem of my skirt
and I wonder about him
while the smell of fresh rain and peach juice mingle
and the moon peeks out from under the clouds.


bentfeather