Week after sunny week
we raced against the rain,
and tasks opened out
like walking to the mountains
(the destination never getting closer)
We thought we were almost done
for weeks and weeks (well, I, for one,
had ceased believing), finding reserves
for yet another day of all-out grind
And when the rain finally came,
ptick ptick against the plastic,
oval drops appearing on the wood,
we still thought we weren’t ready,
but maybe we were
Or maybe we are really close,
and maybe the rain
(what fell was just a sprinkle)
if we can find the strength
will grant us one more day.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2018
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