Leaves turn their backs on me
silver sides flapping
like huddled gossips whisper
about the coming rain.
Pregnant clouds bloom
ripen into labor,
they’ve been holding on
for a cool, midwife wind.
Dark heads crown against
hot, sodden stillness,
first drops merge
push forth a glorious deluge
a resurrection of rain
baptism of yearning,
newborn in thunder song
-Elizabeth Paxson
Elizabeth Paxson is a poet, writer, and artist. She lives among the mutable waters and woods of northern Michigan and finds solace there. She is passionate about preserving and protecting nature. Her first chapbook, Always Birds, is due in 2019.