A Saucer of Rain

Even as it falls from a rowan’s red berries,
a ripening myth of the goddess Hebes,
saucer ready to collect each drop
of liquid life, I smile while I am sopped.

Rain in my hair and on my neck, falling
in cool cascading rivulets, soaking
a sweater you once lent me in your
garden in an unexpected downpour.

At supper time in late September,
evening approaches ever sooner,
speaks of the demise of summer
to prepare me for the coming winter.  

The rain-crystalled berries dazzle my
eye; I lower my head from the tearful sky.

Kim M. Russell, 6^th April 2022

On the sixth day of NaPoWriMo, our challenge is to write a variation of an acrostic, a poem often written at school, in which the first letter of each line spells a word vertically. Rather than spelling out a word with the first letters of each line, we are writing poems that reproduce a phrase with the first words of each line, for example a poem in which the first words of each line, read together, reproduce a treasured line of poetry, a newspaper headline or something from a magazine article.  I took fourteen words from Carol Ann Duffy’s poem ‘The Grammar of Light’

“Even a saucer of rain in a garden at evening
speaks to the eye.’