Poem 317

Evocation of the simple cumulative process of it starting to rain on a humid night … all experienced through sound, nothing to see …

( I like how the word rain appears only once in the poem, also the onomatopoeic alliteration of tapping/ticking/particulate/trickling … )

Summer Rain

There it is again
                                  tapping
      ticking in
like the day's hot expansion
rewinding itself in the roof
but this is water
                                particulate
                                cold

and now the sound 
of trickling
comes from several places
as the rate doubles 
                                       trebles
          into rapidity
          starts to oscillate
          smoothly and quickly
like a sewing machine

                                                 it's all adding up
out there things are getting
wet
        the air is cooling
        rain falling
        straight down
                                    loudly
invisibly
in the dark

no wind
still not a single 
                                drop
                                          on the window