Rain on the Cumberlands

Through the stricken air, through the buttonwood balls

Suspended on twig-strings, the rain fog circles and swallows,

Climbs the shallow plates of bark, the grooved trunks,

And wind-pellets go hurrying through the leaves.

Down, down the rain; down in plunging streaks

Of watered grey.

Rain in the beechwood trees. Rain upon the wanderer

Whose breath lies cold upon the mountainside,

Caught up with broken horns within the nettled grass,

With hoofs relinquished on the breathing stones

Eaten with rain-strokes.

Rain has buried her seed and her dead.

They spring together in this fertile air

Loud with thunder.