Rain in Greenriver
Every hot, dry day at 2
dirge purple clouds
come over the distant,
dark mountains
Every afternoon, 3:15,
in the ancient Utah climate,
bulbous desert calvus-clouds deflate,
filling crag and gorge.
Shoals of debris twist
in tiny rapids, white
and grey, that grow thick
brown with frothy rain
Down at the river
where the tan earth turns green,
the water, once in trickles,
roars – tearing away seedlings,
a cactus bud, fat-blooming
yellow, like a rose,
grows a wilting perch
for a wet, grey titmouse,
still and silent in the storm
*poem by Cari Grindem-Corbett, originally published in North Carolina Poetry Society’s publication Pinesong, and is published here again on her art blog.
Posted on Saturday, September 24th 2011





Notes