THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

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It was five o’clock in the morning
And there’s rain upon the roof
It fell hard without any warning
When it swept down the road
Rushed up through the woods
Caught the grassy fields by surprise
The wind bent the bushes and the trees
Then all was strangely gone
And, for some reason, in the midst of it
I recalled ancient tales of Beowulf
I remembered his meeting with Grendel
A descendent of Abel’s killer, Cain
Then the death of the Hag
Who did her seductive best, but lost to his sword
Before a dragon felt the cold steel
Then the rains washed it all away
Nothing was left for me to ask to stay
Not at five in the morning
When the rain came and wet the roof
Falling hard without any warning
Sweeping down the road
Catching all by surprise
Bending the bushes, trees, and me
Then was strangely gone.

Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn 9.29.18