rainstorms

Last week I wrote a piece “On Sons & Thunderstorms.” Several people commented that they liked the line “puddling with joy.” That made me smile because I actually borrowed that line from myself. In fact, that piece was inspired by a poem I wrote a long time ago. I thought I would share it with you.

What is a Sun Shower?

the heavy too-sweet scent of

woman’s perfume dribbling from gray skies

or a bumblebee, fat and

zig-zagging through air, cutting the

wetness with buzzing certainty;

a black string pulled too tight, too

tight to

the  b  r  e  a   k    i   n    g        p     o      i      n       t,  expectant with

tension, an invisible pulse or

heartbeat crashing around ears and

trees. too close when your teeth buzz, it is

too far when you are trapped in bed, sweet yellow galoshes squeezed in a dark closet.

it is luck before a wedding,

a bath for my umbrella.

nothing more than G-d’s tears.

nothing less than the earth gone mint-chocolate mud, gurgling,

and puddling

with joy.

What makes you puddle with joy?