On Yorkshire’s moors, on Wiltshire’s plain,
On Cornwall’s sea-sprayed craggy cliffs, the rain
Hangs limp, immobile, from the sagging, leaden sky,
Its gentle droplets dampening the air
At every moment, everywhere.
But transatlantic rains stampede
Across vast prairies with a charger’s speed
In fearsome anvil-clouds that billow heaven-high;
They fall in torrents, armed with fire and ice,
Then vanish into sunny skies.
The Spring and Autumn Rains
The Spring rain refreshes, electric, alive
With youth’s boundless vigor and hope, with perfumes
Released from the myriad opening blooms.
It whispers in sweet tones that stir and revive.
But Autumn’s rain cloys, slices through to the bone,
Relentless and merciless. Feeling death near,
It languishes, worn beyond panic or fear.
It prophesies doom with a ponderous drone.
The rains both fall gentle, both cool, and both clear;
Yet what in youth livens, in dotage exhausts;
What brings joy in flowers, in sereness and frosts
Brings sorrow, the tears of the fast-dying year.
Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana, with his wife, Ivana, and their children, and practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. In addition to the Classical Poet's Society’s publications, his poems and prose works have appeared in The Chained Muse Review, Indiana Voice Journal, and other literary journals. He is also a composer, and his musical works may be heard on his YouTube channel.
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