After the Rain

The silent birds stayed hidden, bowed
beneath the weight of recent cloud-
bursts, tattered feathers flat and dripping
like the roses. Rain loves stripping
beauty that was Spring-endowed.

Those thorny limbs that formed a shroud
around a sodden arch allowed
the deluge in while wind was whipping
the silent birds.

Below, the grass stalks swaggered, proud
of water pendants; seemed to crowd
together. Gluttons! They were sipping
droplets that still lingered, slipping
from the leaves. “We’ll sing soon,” vowed
the silent birds.