by Ethel Mortenson Davis
All night
I heard the dog
barking for someone
to help him.
Over the week
his barks became weaker,
until they ceased.
Today the rains
came gently, slowly.
I had to adjust
the rain gutter outside
and got my hair wet.
Rain in the desert
is a cleansing,
renewing
experience,
cleaning what man
leaves in all the earth.
Passing the hall mirror,
I noticed my hair
shiny, soft and curly.
I remember when you
ran outside to catch
the rainwater.
You said it made your hair
so beautiful and shiny,
cleaning it
like nothing else.
Today, in the field,
the vultures are circling.
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