by Ethel Mortenson Davis

When the rarest
rain shower
finally comes to the desert
in early spring,
it softens the rocky soils,

soil that feels
like the ears of horses,
velvet and warm,
ears you want to kiss
or hold,

or the soft lips
of the work horse
who used to search
my deep pockets—
winter pockets–
for the carrot
or apple.


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry

8 responses to “Rain

  1. Images jump from the page
    Meanings spring to life in my mind
    Understandings, feelings mingling
    Longings with acceptance
    And release into sweet mystery

  2. This is just lovely.

    It is very muxh, for me, a poem aroubd the subject of mindfulness. The last few lines sound very much like Haiku by Bosho or one of the other ancient haiku writers. In my very humble opinion and based on the little I have read!! 🙂


    Christine x.

  3. I love that comparison to the ears or the lips of a horse – original and totally convincing!

  4. The desert soil comes to sensory life with your words – wonderful!

  5. Thanks everyone for your comments. Love Ethel

  6. Some lovely connections and imagers here, my compliments ; it has me thinking about horses (again).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s