In Southern Ontario we received the tail end of tropical Hurricane Patricia as heavy rainfall. While the rain steadily poured, I wrote this poem:
Rain gently drumming Soaks my blue tent roof, A steady, steady roll, Tapped with sure fingers. Muffled drum crashes, earnest electric guitar, Car stereo blurts, ruffling my peace. Steady patter patter, Strumming overhead, Cozy in my sweater and damp blue shelter. Sound waves patter, they rise and fall, As dreams of a tent Mist reality. My fingers slowly stop tapping out a poem, Rain gently drumming a blue steel roof.
I’m not sure if I should explain, but I will say that this experience told me that I missed camping this year. I usually go to campgrounds in provincial or national parks. Two familiar sounds are rain on the tent roof and, like it or not, sounds coming from camper stereos nearby.
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