Imminent rain I didn’t believe in finds me
walking down 4th as the reluctant air
begins losing itself— it can’t quite
hold together changing state as surely as
faith once it’s begun to let go. Mist
anoints my skin shrouds my hair catches
in funnel-webs spun over
the shrubs hedges rosebushes, beading
tiny necklaces of no use to anyone, not even
to the spiders who built these webs, wanting
to catch everything— spiders
now escaping down tunnels that twist
under leaves like nets and usually hold until rain
or wind lets up. Strands quiver given a last tug,
tightening fly or gnat food-stores
moored at the end of slack rope. Drizzle,
and autumn roses silk webs green leaves my aging skin
and damp hair—glow or is it shine? no
call it…a sheen but that word too is
deeply rooted implies likeness to God— radiance always does.
Now rain begins steady down and light can’t be caught
on petal leaf webs
that here and there break in the storm sending provisions
swinging flying out over the sidewalk where a worm
that had been dry slickens enough
to rise and leap back to the edge
of dusty dirt still splashing up. Everything is soaked
when it stops. Air gathers itself again. The worm disappears.
Spiders emerge begin repairs.
A cat comes out of a shrub
next to foliage I’ve ducked under, sits on the wet sidewalk
as though he’d always been there— and didn’t mind rain.
He ignores the roses still nodding mistily,
roses indifferent to him and to me
shaking off the beautiful glisten of cobwebs.