Washington Rainstorm

In cold rain, it pours

I watched the green grass—

Standing water.

The rain is wet

With the smell of grass and earth.

The rain is cold

With the sound of the firs.

And then

Out of the thick grey sky

Flying swiftly

Speeding

Swirling above the treetops

The American Robin comes,

Moving, Moving

Loud song

Storm wind in the branches.

And when the American robin has passed

Behind them

A crystal train of raindrops

Strands of raindrops

Tangled in the long grasses

And leaves.