A Sunday Poem


After yesterday’s shower
I stack raindrops
beside me,
plucking them
from the pond
with thumb and forefinger,
though I can’t return them
to the sky.

Prismatic dance of light
among their fish forms,
I am compelled
to gather the shimmering
gems of surface tension.

One upon
another they mound
as I toss more upon the rest,
a rainbow hillock,
the pond descending
to a dark mud trough.

A sudden shudder
and collapse,
all merge together,
a rushing torrent into the void
from which it was drawn.

The water swirls
with silt
and will take days
to settle.

One small drop remains
on shore.

I slide it
into my trembling palm
and carry home
all I need
of the sky.


16 thoughts on “A Sunday Poem

  1. You built this so carefully I could see every step, every drop, the mud–everything. The ending is as perfect as it could be. You do more with less, always, and how you make these poems so visual with so few adjectives and descriptors, purely by idea, always amazes me.

  2. Wow, you outdid yourself Matt! Love the idea of stacking the raindrops, and the desire to return them to the sky, which can’t be done. The shudder and collapse, the refilling of the painstakingly emptied pond, oh, how exquisite! And still, one droplet remains. The perfect ending. This might be my very favourite of all your poetry so far. ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Adorable! I love rainy days, I’m one of the few people I know who likke rain puddles and after this poem I’m pretty sure you like them too. It’s magically beautiful.


  4. Hard pressed to say which verse or line really hits me. I think I can only take it as a whole, slide it into my palm and carry it home. ๐Ÿ˜‰

  5. Matt,
    This poem is brilliant. I absolutely love the images you have created. “After yesterdayโ€™s shower I stack raindrops beside me,” is spectacular!!! I always enjoy your work. You really do inspire me.

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