Rain on Hostas
It is raining on the Hostas
in my yard and on the
rabbits who hide under the
broad leaves nibbling
their impromptu umbrellas,
huddled together in the cold,
sitting perfectly soundless,
shivering, in fear
of being discovered
by the cat who waits
under the porch awning
with its silent, surveying eyes
and occasionally twitching
tail that catches and
refracts the light
as it arcs back and forth.
And it is raining,
as my mother sits
in her rocking chair,
gazing out the hospital window,
like the rabbits hiding
under the Hostas;
waiting for the rain
to stop, so she can
escape her tormentors.
by Annette Gagliardi
Published in "Best Poets of 2016, Vol 1", John T. Eber, Sr. Editor, by Ever & Wein Publishing, 2017.
to stop so she can