Out In the Rain
Out in the rain the restless winds
now moan as winter's pale rescinds.
The flowers at the window bay
are silent bells that stiffly sway
while marching on the roof begins,
a riot of a billion pins
that shatter all my disciplines.
I clasp my hands as if to pray
out in the rain.
I feel the breath of pardoned sins;
on tenterhooks this mid-March grins
its unborn promise. I'm away
to spread my arms in gleeful splay
and echo tales this cloudburst spins
out in the rain.
3/12/18
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