God loves the rain, not us. Ours is what spills over, what we look for that finds us: innocence by association. Cloud shadows feel their way, rapid and blind, over the face of the prairie. Pine trees atop the ridge row the world into the dampblack sky. God's mistress rides by on a feather of water. After she is gone her fragrance is everywhere. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK THE JOBHOLDER by DAVID IGNATOW THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL BALLADE OF DEAD FRIENDS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LETTERS TO DEAD IMAGISTS by CARL SANDBURG |