Midday,
blessed by the summer rain.
Running out to roll up car windows
as the grey flows over.

The best medicine.
Asphalt hotter than the water drops
darkening the sidewalk spot by spot.
To myself: praying for it not to stop.

Let this heat be made steam,
the bitter physical drift into dream.
From my seat on the green
things seem less under pressure,
rising even as the rain keeps coming down.
Our clothes growing closer to the ground

Summer shower medicine drink me deep.
April flowers dead again
leaving seeds to sink and sleep.

At the death of every blossom waits a fruit,
at the laying down of every life
stands a youth.