MORNING NEWS

Shoots of rain pierce ground fog
and lift darkness above pitter-pattering
bird song, elated yelps of two dogs,
a braying donkey and a horse
gathering on the porch,
convocation of ladies on the land.
Across the pasture, mist wraps the hill
in a halo, a scarf
dissolving into warm droplets
from clouds carrying
yesterday’s sweat that rolled down my back
as I cut limbs
downed by last autumn’s tornado,
firewood. The sun breaks through.

I haul firewood from the scorching forest
while two bullfrogs lazily bellow
“see that fly?” to one another
in the pond whose scum patterns
re-create aerial views
of the ocean’s surface currents –

a new burst, ground soaks in the rain,
a whippoorwill chants
thunder rolls in the valley,
coming closer,
the donkey brays for sweet feed.
I haul firewood from the scorching forest.

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