Harry Behn




Spring Rain


    poem-photo










Leaves make a slow
Whispering sound
As down the drops go
Drip to the ground.
    Peace, peace, says the tree.

Good wet rain!
Shout happy frogs,
Peepers and big green
Bulls in bogs,
    Lucky, lucky are we!

On a bough above,
Head under wing,
A mourning dove
Waits time to sing.
    Ah me, she sighs, ah me!