Drenched

Oh how this rain
Does flail
The fledgling finches
Feeding 
Into flight
Their gold and green
No longer seen
In this lack of light.

Where dark leaves droop 
The flapping courage
Of the collared dove
Is uncommonly confined
To seeking comfort
In the eaves.

And we
Are all cagouled
Before the storm
Jacketed against
A damp and joyless 
Drenched July.

JL July 6 13:10