Notes On A Late June Rain

The presence of the warm droplets displace
The sweat coursing down my face as I watch broiling
Expanses of vapor rise up conspiratorially from the South.

I leave this tin-roof shelter to feel the full force pouring
Drench my heated brow and cool the fevered knowing.
Descending patter not ceasing within my upturned mouth.

A deluge written slowly on rooftops chatter time mark,
The soupy breathing atmosphere has soaked the wetness into it.
These dribble-tendered droplets compile to depths unknown.

Please excuse my lack of industry but here I must remain.
Soaking gravid flecks of cloudy souse into my field-like hair.
Waiting for that one true droplet to awaken dried-up bone.

Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner