Sometimes when it rains
on a a soft hazy evening–
the trees become a canvas,
all the greens smear into sky–
a green, crayons cannot capture,
a name no one can come up with.

Rain falls from one leaf
to another as if a zillion tiny 
invisible pitchers are filling
the entire world
a tall glass of water .

Birds chat
whistle, chirp–
they know the rain
will last through the night.

Louder, louder the rain spills
over falls
and falls,
a flash of lightening
cracks open
the end of an overcast day,
thunder growls.