In Evening Rain

Even here in town I could be
sitting alone on a mountain
like old Tu Fu, watching
rain strike the deck chairs
and the dense green
foliage of the forest beyond
as it darkens into night.

I’d drink a little wine, think back
on an evening spent talking poetry
and politics with an old friend
I haven’t seen now for years,
and watch that little brown wren
with its tail pointed upward
hop around under the bird feeder
looking for fallen seeds in the falling rain.

KZ 2019

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