Have you ever stood outside in the gray morning as the first drops of cool rain begin to fall on your warm skin in the humidity of late summer? A flock of black birds crowds onto a small patch of your neighbor’s yard. The trees above you receive, gladly, the soft pats of rain on their hands while the house sings quietly under its touch. Have you been unable to stop the smile— oh, what makes you smile— as you clutched to your heart the bright shafts of sunlight which you plucked from the weeds alongside the ditch?   If so, then I know you have tasted what is hidden in a single moment, you have...

late August, late afternoon after a shower   fallen rain forms countless shining pools on the freshly stained deck, now darkened with water   narrow yellow leaves touched with spots of brown, blown onto the deck by the storm, paste themselves next to young green maple leaves, each glistening like silver shafts of light under the descending golden sun   the bright water beads, the dark deck, the shining leaves, whisper   autumn, they say,   and I can hardly wait  ...