The Rain is Here
The rain is here. At last, it comes—
A hush, then drums on rooftops’ tin,
A whisper first across the palms,
Then all at once, the wild begins.
The sky unzips its silver coat,
Clouds spill their bellies, fat with grace.
From long months baked by searing sun,
The islands lift their thirsty face.
The ground, once cracked like ancient clay,
Now darkens, softened, kissed awake.
The brittle leaves of tamarind
Drink deep, and every branch will shake.