Like white balloons, the best surprise –
Clouds! Clouds today in our dry skies!
They clumped in groups like friends who meet;
Grew gray with promise of a treat.
Then, past a distant hill that rings,
They dropped a curtain of wet strings.
The air turned fresh with smell of rain,
Like sweet scents from a southern swain.
The thunder rumbled; smiles then spread.
As wonder widened, hope was bred.
The air turned cool, as fresh as mint.
We waited for the rain’s descent.
We held our breath and watched the sky
And saw the clouds go floating by,
Some east, some west, with us between.
Some disappeared, no longer seen
Like gray balloons that lose their air
And sink to ground, to child’s despair,
To sink our hopes, to bring a groan –
The dreadful drought goes on and on.
—
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.
Oh, I was so happy for you, thinking all the way through about the rain you’ve been craving, with your apt metaphors – white balloons, wet strings, air turned fresh, fresh as mint – only to be dropped into drought again. What a strong poem!
It was a disappointing day, but refreshing, just to have the change – the coolness, the closeness, and the smell of rain.
I’m an ex farmer, so I appreciate poems about rain and droughts etc. Particularly as I live on the driest continent on earth and have farmed through some big droughts – good poem.
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I like this one a lot, though it’s almost heartbreaking. Have you ever seen The Red Balloon? This reminded me of that minus the happy ending.
Thanks. No, I haven’t seen The Red Balloon.
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