They enter on their own time
shifting eternally until called down to earth as rain
where the land
loses that moment of shadow drift.
People sing about them and dance
recite wisdom tales of accumulations
and watch for their return.
We are the children of their moisture
lapping their aftermath
and memorizing how the cloud cover
stretches across the vast plains
and smoothes all life into a gray world
shapeshifting our fears.
© David A Rachlin
Stow, Massachusetts, USA