There is a time of year
When the rains come here,
After the best of the summer
Steps green, and the dusk
Is large and cool.

Sharp winds turn slicing
Soon and sooner
The coming fall
Into a quickness of breath
And a run to the barn.
Out of the river flows
The old muddy heart
Of this town.

All then
Under these rainy clouds
Thunder and lightning
Fierce and bounds,
Then gently receded
To blue like the turquoise.

The sky to the west
Is full of light
And the sun
Is swallowed whole.