On a cool day in early June, Starlings call, and in the distance, a robin. It’s starting to rain.

The gray clouds cast a blue chill on the day The sound of the rain On the leaves of the maples outside Makes me shiver.

It’s cool in the cottage The windows are open And I open the door.

The rain lands on me and chills me I turn up my face to the sky And welcome in the rain As it turns the forest floor to mud and sets the leaves glistening.

The mud is cold On my bare feet.

I think I’ll stay here a while.