There is a thrilling something
And yet so soothing
About nestling down to sleep
In the rain beneath a tent flap,
Knowing it will keep
You safe and dry,
And yet the steady slap
And patter at the fly
Assuring you how very fragile
The whole arrangement is.
If only we could keep that grace
When all the tents are put away
To learn to measure out our days,
Embracing our fragility
With the same unlikely peace
And with such perfect ease.
Sleeping in the Rain, a poem
Labels: poetry
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