Hoping For Rain

by Lenny Wells

In the early evening, we sit on the back porch

at the end of another day thick with southern heat

watching a blanket of dark clouds being pulled across the sky

A wind rustles the leaves of dried-down sweet corn stalks;

‘Silver Queen’, still standing in the garden,

and birds chatter with the hope

of earthworms rising from the ground,

to crawl and become stranded on the patio

We pause and listen to the thunder roll,

coming to us across the darkening sky,

hoping for rain