Ghazal, Beaded with Rain

Forms and strictures, rules. Fill in the blanks, shade in the bubbles, color inside
the lines. For instance, use green for this picture of a lizard beaded with rain.

Dry and veined, presaging October: maple leaves cover one side of the porch.
Dull browns, yellows, reds— a leafy blizzard in June, unbeaded with rain.

In art class, one of the girls from Peru is blind in one eye. She’s come to America
to see the doctor wizards; and by summer’s end, a whole windshield beaded with rain.

Which chef was being interviewed on the radio this morning? A woman’s voice woke me—
she spoke of being excited by caramelized gizzards; of summer picnics beaded with rain.

Nearly unbearable heat today. And night air thicker than butter; no relief from water
or cricket sounds— But what can you expect? Not even a lizard, back beaded with rain.

Scorched earth smell, sky shimmering like the surface of a lake or a mirage. Dementor-
like, a buzzard circles overhead. Not one poetic prickle, no beaded sound of rain.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← Ghazal, Between the LinesNight Heron, Ascending →


  1. Peg, thanks for sharing! (Would you mind fixing the spelling of my last name though on your blog post?) How cool also that you have links to that fabulous jewelry. :)


  2. …and I love this phrase: “Dawn scene with thunder lizards.” :)


    1. Elise really does come up with such provocative titles…


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