Tuesday, July 10, 2012
This morning I lay on the couch just after five, reading the final pages of a very long book for review. Night darkness yielded to weather darkness. There was a catch in the sky's throat. A breeze riffled the skirt of the deck umbrella. And then: rain. I held my breath, didn't stir.
It was nearly silent. It was brief. The growing things bowed.
Sometimes it is best not to stand up tall at the window, asking for things, imploring.
Sometimes we have to believe: it will come.