Drought and Rain

I wake to the drought breaking,
the muted percussion of rain—
steady, no wind—as though
it had never deserted us

the way love can desert a marriage.
I’d be at the sink washing vegetables
when he came in. He’d glance my way,
go to change clothes. Parched land,
wildfire, ashes.

I turn to the man who loves me now,
touch his chest, whisper, “Listen.”
He opens his eyes, and we lie silent.
Then he reaches for my hand.
“I think, today, I love you equally,”
he says.  I nod. “Me too.”

– Sarah Russell
Photo courtesy of Unsplash
For Poets United’s prompt “Kintsugi — the art of mending.”

26 thoughts on “Drought and Rain

  1. Such healing is soooo needed, the rain as if it had never left and someone to love equally. Beautiful reflection. May the rain be consistent and end the drought.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thanks, Sreeja. Don’t you hate when that happens and you can’t do anything about it? It’s bad enough when it’s my fault, but sometimes autocorrect joins in and I mangle someone’s name. Arrrgh!

        Like

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