The Same Sky

We needed the rain.
Spring has been a scorcher,
the little grass remaining
withered to brown,
puddles of red mud,
an archipelago
in an ocean of clover.

Rain will mean
more grass to cut,
more weeds to pull.
One hundred miles west
a field of raspberries sinks,
an Atlantis of deliciousness.
Rain gives and takes
with equal indifference.




Poetry by Melinda K Zarate The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 6 times
Written on 2026-05-26 at 16:08

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Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
One thing I like about your poems is how they begin in medias res.


Reading them feels like being placed right in the middle of an ongoing life.

Remarkable! I don’t think anyone’s ever written like that. Here or elsewhere.
2026-05-26