Rain
Poem by Patricia Zylius
Rain clouds scallop the horizon
while my collards, sun-drenched leaves
as big as platters, reach
toward a long-dry sky. I can smell
the coming shower, but not the mercury
gathered into tangles of nimbi
that pour tainted rain.
How easy, at night, to love the rain’s lullaby,
then, in the clear morning, admire
the bright globes that glisten on the foliage.
Later I will eat. Snow peas will break open
their sweet green on my tongue,
the butter lettuce fresh and tender
as early sun through a thin fringe of haze.
Patricia Zylius is the author of the chapbook Once a Vibrant Field. Her poems have appeared in California Quarterly, SWWIM, Plant-Human Quarterly, Catamaran Literary Reader, Crosswinds, Body, Passager, Sequestrum, Book of Matches, Juniper, Ellipsis, Natural Bridge, Red Wheelbarrow, and other journals, and on the Women’s Voices for Change website. Her poems are also included in Welcome to the Resistance: Poetry as Protest, In Plein Air, Women Artists Datebook, and The Yes Book.
