After a Month of Rain
by Linda Pastan
Everything I thought I wanted
is right here,
particularly when the sun
is making such a comeback,
and the lilac engorged
with purple has recovered
from its severe pruning,
and you will be back soon
to dispel whatever it is
that overtakes me like leaf blight,
even on a day like this. I can still
hear remnants of the rain
in the swollen stream
behind the house, in the faint
dripping under the eaves,
persistent as memory.
And all the things I didn't think
I wanted, cut like the lilac back
to the root, push up again
from underground.
"After a Month of Rain" by Linda Pastan, from Traveling Light. © W.W. Norton & Co., 2011.
From the Writer's Almanac
Friday, April 6, 2012
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