Today, again the rain, at times thrown-wind-buckets.

It rained yesterday as well. In this pouring rain and
mist the sundials are not working, but we still know
the time. Tomorrow, the weatherman says, it will rain 
again. A rip-rapping beat, taps in the sawing wood.
 
 
    if the old had not
watered the fields before us
    we would have no seed—
a wheel older than bones
   sent and retrieves them