The new green is amused by raindrops.
How they plop, roll, sit and soak.
One droplet magnifies the leaf veins center.
A star, a circle, coming together and
radiating out with the Sun’s bright energy.
Even the new plants in the garden
have had enough of the spring rain.
Winter lingered. True spring passed us by.
Warm, moist, green jumped to May summer.
Brushing rosemary and sage scents the air.
Robins brush their wings against window screens
attacking reflections of their own nesting instincts.
They started nesting in the pine tree
outside the bedroom window under our gaze.
Today, three blue eggs match the sky.
That earthy, pleasant scent we all know
but can’t quite describe from rain falling
on dry ground. A word from Greek
“petra” for stone but “ichor” for what
flows in the veins of the gods.