Back to The Reading Lamp
        Back to my poetry




        Rainy Night Repose




        Hearing the rain dance across
        The tin roofing, flowing into puddles
        In the darkness, I remember
        Another such storm.
        The sky turns electric--
        As if day were invading night, wondering
        What that darkness must be like--
        Time rolls back a bit,
        In layers of truth and fancy.

        One of the fresh-scrubbed faces huddling
        In the amber cast of a kerosene lamp,
        I goad mother in a whisper to
        Read another chapter before
        We totter off to bed.
        Not yet feigning confidence in the dark,
        I pull the quilt up, shifting it
        Until a soft piece is nestled under my chin,
        And lean into that soft shoulder.
        Inhaling deeply the fragrance of her hair,
        My eyes decide to close. Cuddled there
        Mother's voice grows softer and more distant,
        As does the steady drumming on the roof,
        Until even my own thoughts whisper
        Amongst themselves too far away to hear.

        I blink, my eyes recovering from the flash.
        A slight smile curves my lips, recalling how
        That chapter was read again because
        No one could remember quite how it had gone.
        I listen to the music of the night
        And recline for a moment more,
        Then I rise and go hunting for a battered book
        To read a certain chapter
        Before I trundle off to bed.



        Send comments to poetess@hotmail.com


        © 1998