The male cardinal is singing and
singing
each phrase like a raised
eyebrow,
a rain of sideways parentheses.
After parched days of sandpaper
heat
a hesitant rain is teasing the
maple
leaves, brushing the air clean at
last.
Now it gathers confidence,
tiptapping
the roof. All the birds stir up
now
noisy and high pitched as a
gaggle
of girls pouring out of a car
at a mall. Every despairing leaf
uncurls. The dust drinks it up.
Every living thing opens to the
rain.
Every one of us eater and eaten
pause for a chorus of wet joy.
