For the all mothers, and mothers-at-heart, and the people who love them…this one’s for you.
Recollections
Do you remember the smell of our first rain in years?
The way it hung with organic promise in the air
as the temperature fell?
Initial drops were fat and heavy –
dive bombing the powder dry soil
beating on the old tin roof.
The small water tank quickly filled
we ran for shampoo
to wash our hair under the overflow spout.
Hot water and no two minute count.
Our jeans were sodden and our feet
stained like pecans by the mud.
Our laughter came from a deep unspoken relief,
relief that long prayed for rain had come.
We stood, our arms outstretched, faces to the sky
feeling the rain wash over us,
carrying away the cares of the day.
The taste of clean water dancing on our tongues.
We looked at each other with such joy,
our eyes sparkling.
Your face shed the lines of years passed
and I saw your most beautiful smile.
My mother and I - young, alive and carefree.
Finally we came to our senses
And ran from room to room
In our underwear:
closing windows, shutting doors.
That evening thicker clouds rolled in
Bringing long rolls of thunder and blankets of light
illuminating the land like daytime.
I feel asleep to a chorus of desert frogs
and a promise of new life.
Angele Toomey Poetry 