The trees sing the raindrops after the storm,
The leaves glisten green in a minor key
The branches sway a tempo, a deep bass note -
While the roots whisper forth in filaments.
The park is silent, save for puddles
Adjusting to the afterflow - ridges
And rivulets go underground, while pools
Debate the definition, the length of a lake.
The drains are clogged and gurgle without end,
The sweat of the earth rises in humid steam
The cautious grass unbends its leaves and stem.
Insects and fish first know the storm has passed,
Then birds and squirrels come searching for their homes.
People fled, panicked, when the storm began
Hours ago, and it will be hours yet before they return
With skates and bikes, and unleashed pets
Jogging in virtual marathons, stretching
And grunting on exercise bars, frisbee
Picnics between the debating pools.
The gray clouds still cover the sky; observing
The sun restrains itself- it's too near twilight.
Other days across the years, coming soon,
We'll walk again together In the park.
