An evening look on the fields after the rain storm. Here is a favorite poem by Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933), an American poet. A fitting poem for the season.
Spring Rain
by Sara Teasdale
I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.
I remembered a darkened doorway
Where we stood while the storm swept by,
Thunder gripping the earth
And lightning scrawled on the sky.
The passing motor busses swayed,
For the street was a river of rain,
Lashed into little golden waves
In the lamp light’s stain.
With the wild spring rain and thunder
My heart was wild and gay;
Your eyes said more to me that night
Than your lips would ever say. . .
I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.