No Promise of Rain

Vintage Words


Only the teasing sensations,

the sound of unhappy ions,

clouds moving too slowly,

expectation as electric

as broken neon at night. A

promise of light.


Rain is a myth, believed in

long ago. Heroes and the land

drenched to wash off blood

and smoke from smoldering

fires, unignited pyres.


A hope of rain to cleanse

the spirit, give rest to desire,

and make the horizon dark

with storm and meaningful

thunder. Here is too much

of this stuff of wonder.







Author's Notes/Comments: 

In the West, wildfires devastate property and thousands of acres. We take it for granted here in the Midwest, not so in Texas and California and . . . ~a~

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Beavis's picture


Simply amazing, Lady A! I love it, but I think I may have a different reading on this one! :-)

allets's picture

Like Rabbit Share The Wealth

What is your different reading? On rain in U.S. and drought and fires or something else as interpretation for the poem? What do you see? Metaphorically, many things should be here, promise to be here, like debt ceilings and gvt workers back to running the gvt. So much thunder, so little rain and rain is so necessary. Be well. Ethereally happy that you liked. I have a soft spot for this poem. ~Lady A

Lady A


Beavis's picture


I'm way out in my own zone here, Dear, and I can't share until Rab has finished digging her latest warren ;-) 

allets's picture


I was thinking of too much rain, too much fire, simply. slc

Lady A