Summer came.
Three days of blistering heat.
In the country store Jane
covered her pancakes with paper.
We scoured the wardrobe
for sandals and shorts.
Rain hung in the distance of the mind.
Farmers knew it.
They shaved their land,
engines burning far into the night.
We thrashed in the sheets,
damp from the heat.
The rain-smell harried
and seagulls' squalled
as tractors pushed from field to barn.
We drained our wine,
legs dangled in the idling burn,
eyes to the sky.
On the fourth day it rained.
