When it Rained

You knew it was coming before it came

softly as the turning of catechism pages.

.

The green wood unlatched its door

and you stepped beneath the rain-whirred

.

leaves of alder and maple

where muddy deer tracks

.

made Lilliputian lakes of pewter

pocked by the rain.

.

Rain fell upon the afternoon silence of moss

and drummed three white trilliums.

.

A sword fern dripped pearls.

A nameless bird suddenly caroled.

.

And you stood in that familiar place

where you have never stood before.

*

Biography

Mike Dillon, a retired community newspaper publisher, lives on Puget Sound northwest of Seattle, USA. He is the author of four books of poetry and three books of haiku. His most recent book, “Departures,” a book of poetry and prose about the forced removal of Bainbridge Island’s Japanese Americans after Pearl Harbor was published by Unsolicited Press in April 2019.