rather I’ll listen to the rain,
a rich companion promising
mutual benefits.
After a drought or long absence,
the god of rain can be steady
or scary. Chaque to the South.
Thor’s thunder from the North.
I love them both. Some nights
love can be desperate
as well as passing.
Mine bears no grudges
against rain’s music,
its artful way in bed
of leading the listener
to sleep’s side.