Sara Teasdale

I thought I had forgotten, 

But it all came back again 

To-night with the first spring thunder 

In a rush of rain.

I remembered a darkened doorway 

Where we stood while the storm swept by, 

Thunder gripping the earth 

And lightning scrawled on the sky.

The passing motor busses swayed, 

For the street was a river of rain, 

Lashed into little golden waves 

In the lamp light's stain.

With the wild spring rain and thunder 

My heart was wild and gay; 

Your eyes said more to me that night 

Than your lips would ever say. . . .

I thought I had forgotten, 

But it all came back again 

To-night with the first spring thunder 

In a rush of rain. 

Paris Street: Rainy Day
Gustave Caillebotte 1877

Last night's storm was something to take your breath away. I slept with my door open to my balcony and my room was flooded with light. The night before it also was flooded with moonlight. The storm cracked and raged so that I would not have been surprised to find King Lear stomping out my back door wanting in.

I have guests from the Netherlands who slept right through the storm. They also got home before I did and they shut off the air-conditioning and left me a note. They said they hoped I didn't mind. Oh, I loved them for that. I only turn on the air when guests are here.

So with the air off, the bedrooms full, and a storm raging, it was a great night for dreaming. And, oh, we needed the rain. My gardens were bone dry. Lucky for us there are clouds in the sky again today. Blissful rain, fall upon my gardens!

The poem is from Sara Teasdale.