from Postcards to the Rain God
for Peter Didsbury on his fiftieth birthday
You sit in your shed in the rain.
In its peppercorn racket
You have a much better idea:
Marks on paper, made from the pluvial sexual
Ink of the Iris and Pearson Park pond-rain.
Messages unread, a century
From now: Today a cloudburst settling
Its anvil on the slates.
Then longer, softer rain - I cannot tell you how -
Is like piano-islands
In the pond. Ad
Maiorem Pluvii gloriam.
from Cousin Coat (Picador, 2002), copyright © Sean O'Brien 2002, used by permission of the author and the publisher