Rain by Wendy Gist


Let it rain, Let it rain,
Open the Floodgates of Heaven—Psalm 97

Black birds balance blades of grass,
fan feathers, and, at the entrance
of the park, a blue water fountain full

of cat, tail extending.
Erratic lizards sprint and spark
ahead of a wogging woman.

The burrowing owls can’t be seen
and near holes in the sand
a bottle empty—

Ants frenzied.
Monsoon clouds kick like flaxen horses
in the wind at noon, while thoughts of rain

spill at the corners of the wrist watch
she watches.
Ticking her umbrella

in a single blink
to the horses wild and free
she utters: “Wash us clean.”

by Wendy Gist

Editor’s Note: The protagonist in this poem doesn’t speak until the end, but her three simple words transform the poem from simple imagistic verse into a psalm.


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