Summer Shower

The rain marches down the lake

under a canopy of storm clouds,

gray darkening to black and veiling the sun,

shutting out its warmth where I sit,

content, this summer’s day, lulled to sleep

by the soft wash of waves at the water’s edge.

A heavy rain falls now upon my roof,

an a-rhythmic beat like tiny feet running for cover,

playful above me, and a light breeze enters,

lifts the curtains and shakes them out;

“just a passing shower, nothing more.”

And it does, it passes, this sudden squall moving

eastward toward town and beyond, as we’ve grown

to expect here at the lake. And so the sun returns

to a blue sky, as before, and warms me once again,

lulled to sleep by the soft wash of waves, content,

this summer’s day, just a summer shower passing.