Fresh Summer Rain

The patter of falling drops on the windows announces the arrival
Of the rain clouds bringing the cooling waters to a dry earth.
Pools of liquid in the driveway dance with raindrops
As a stream pours from the roof onto the ponding ground.
And then it is over, no thunder, no wind.
The day now damp as tendrils of vapor rise from the roadway.
Gone now, for a while, and silence returns.

Sun and Summer Heat

It’s morning, bright sun streaming in my window.
The dry earth bleeds for rain.
Sunday morning, and the last dregs
of a former life pass through sheaths of foil.
It is June, it is summer, it is quiet.
Sitting here I am listening to Jim Morrison
recite poetry back in March 1969.
I used to live for summer days
On my bicycle, riding into town
to buy weed and Canadian beer.
Stay out until they turned the sprinklers
on on the Diag, every night an adventure.
Now, summer is locked in battle between
the sun and the moon, heat seeps into my room,
The burning sun streams through my window.


Sitting in my room with curtains closed,
Traffic and birds, sounds through my window,
The world is different now, we are all alone.

I have been watching the seasons change.
Snow and ice give way to sun and heat,
The great cycle of life repeats, I sleep.

Wasting away as I abstain from animal products,
Because doctors drug my mind.
I want to be left alone.