If It Doesn’t Rain

Listening to the washing machine

and the sound of no rain outside

and remembering a poem by Billy Collins

about bones in the basement

but I cannot remember the title or how it goes.


There are songs like that, too,

stuck in my brain for years

neither tune nor lyrics, just a scrap of a phrase

the worst is a line about each one having a flag and a hill

except little ty woo.


The clean laundry will be fresh and dry soon,

and if it doesn’t rain we will catch an evening game

of the local minor league club

where my son will run through the seats

with the other bleacher bums


and maybe even go down on the field

for some silly kids contest or spin the wheel

and either way win free tickets to more games

to come back and do it all again

to be nine in summer


or even to be fifty four

with a nine year old son




3 thoughts on “If It Doesn’t Rain”

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