Portside

Sweet Rain 

By Teresa Pham-Carsillo

Like dazed new parents,

we name world-ending storms

and baptize crashing waves that decimate cities.

We name earthquakes that tear jagged chasms

across the fire-scourged earth.

We name wars and untold horrors

filling boats with refugees cast onto rough seas.

Meanwhile, in the wide open sky,

terns and gulls soar, circling

in search of dry land and calm winds.

We name the torch bearers of grief,

but what of the gentle shower that comes in the early hours,

dusting the tender grass with dew and feeding thirsty soil?

Here, in the garden where your food grows and your animals sleep:

Can you name the sweet rain that returns again and again,

leaving life and not devastation in its wake?

Can you whisper gratitude in the space between drops?

Teresa Pham-Carsillo is a Vietnamese American writer based in Napa, California. Her poetry, short fiction, and essays have been featured in numerous publications, including The New York Times, Poetry Magazine, The Southern Review, and Black Warrior Review.

See  www.teresaphamcarsillo.com Instagram: @poeticpuppets