After the Rain, She
Caitríona Reed 

I am living
under her skin,

rain
and early snow,

rolling thunder
from every side,

a dream
come true.

Around the houses
there is dancing. Invisible.

I am glad
to dance invisible with it,

or curl up as once
with a book in a warm bed,

but upright now, the hills and sky
a blanket on my shoulders.

I do not mind my feet cold moist
leaf mould and green
eye of spring to come.

Where every year we gather sage
the sound of water
invisible through scrub oak
over the rocks below,

and soaring over the lake
she sends up fifty white geese
to meet the early morning sun.

 

 

© Caitríona Reed May, 2004