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rain verse
Jul. 6th, 2007 09:21 amI was driving down the road today, trying to make up a song with the title "ottoman" ('her lips were like an ottoman/soft cushions when the day is done'...hmmm...maybe not). I have the urge to play the dulcimer and sing. This line of thinking momentarily distracted me from the fact that we are expected to get another 1 to 3 inches of rain today. My wife took our dogs out for an early morning walk, as we try to get them exercise when the rains let up. She reported mosquitos were in abundance near our park pond.
I cannot pretend that extensive rains are some novel experience for me, as the wetlands of south Arkansas feature years in which flooding is not at all uncommon. I am very used to the mosquito, with whom I spent many childhood hours. I will spare this journal the stories of slap and scratch, but suffice it to say that I am well acquainted with all forms of insect fauna and a few forms of skin-irritating flora. Yet one thing I love about my prairie-adjacent home is that in return for giving up the joys of dense woodland, one rarely encounters the water mocassin or the mosquito. They exist here, of course, in any year, but one is much more like to encounter a non-poisonous prairie snake or the call of a charming cicada.
Mark me down as "opposed to north Texas turning into a rain forest".
This weekend I am going to begin writing poetry. I do not know where it will lead me, or how many poems I will create that I am willing to submit for publication. But I think it's time to write poetry again.
I cannot pretend that extensive rains are some novel experience for me, as the wetlands of south Arkansas feature years in which flooding is not at all uncommon. I am very used to the mosquito, with whom I spent many childhood hours. I will spare this journal the stories of slap and scratch, but suffice it to say that I am well acquainted with all forms of insect fauna and a few forms of skin-irritating flora. Yet one thing I love about my prairie-adjacent home is that in return for giving up the joys of dense woodland, one rarely encounters the water mocassin or the mosquito. They exist here, of course, in any year, but one is much more like to encounter a non-poisonous prairie snake or the call of a charming cicada.
Mark me down as "opposed to north Texas turning into a rain forest".
This weekend I am going to begin writing poetry. I do not know where it will lead me, or how many poems I will create that I am willing to submit for publication. But I think it's time to write poetry again.
