I understand the benevolence of the sky,
a single cloud of tarnished silver floating
from horizon to horizon. It’s gift, the dimming
of the light, and the way the rain diffuses it
so that the woods is veiled, as if in mist.
Here, the hillside is awash in emerald green
so intense that you could hardly stand
to look at it, so suddenly appearing,
if it were drenched in sunlight. it’s enough,
just as it is, to make you draw your breath,
inhaling its hue and the taste of a cold May rain.