Weary by dusk,
grey-lidded oceans of air
bear the freight of day’s long exhalation.
In the late blot of light
rain relieves a heavenly burden,
a cool hush let down with a heaving sigh.
Liquid ribbons puddle in thirstless circlets of leaf
winking the dulled white or the rose.
The bird adjusts wingbeats to the wet weight of itself,
easily tilting to tip off drops,
clear pearls in the oiled surfaces of feather.
A grinning rake leans against the shed,
damp rays of straw stuck in its teeth.
Abandoned tasks whistle in the eaves.