photo & poem ©2023 Patricia J. Franz
photo & poem © 2023 Patricia J. Franz
morning-after
After the Rain
About Me
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Rain fell somewhere else yesterday. I see it puddled for your trees.
Little glimpses of a season’s turn…
Beautiful!
Oh, Patricia, you have captured so much poetic thinking and observing in the aftermath of that summer storm. Wow. I love all the details like “waxy leaf cups” “soft-plop” and this beauty:
“hum of homeless bees’ sad song
clings in clumps
at the back of my throat”
Brilliant
Thank you, Denise.
I love last ditch wildflowers and blossom of teardrops! I also love the way you describe the proud morning-after sky. Lovely language!
Thank you, Tracey. I’m always amazed at how long the wildflowers hang on.
Patricia, I’m in love with Morning-After–especially the final two stanzas. That “walk me home” is so very comforting.
I’m thinking a lot about what home is these days…wildflowers are a big piece of that.
Patricia, because we are in the midst of your rainy time in CA, so on “the morning after” I’ll recall ‘proclaiming “Look what I did!”’ Wonderful that you wrote the ‘after’!
Yay for rain in the mountains!
Patricia, your observations on rain are gently presented in your poem. It is a soft trickle of words. Yuor second,shorter poem is a gentle weaving of words, and is wholy appropriate for the subject.
Thank you for this observation, Alan.
Love your pine needle basket! And your rain poem. Wow! It’s like there are three poems in one — the after-rain poem, the poem about the homeless bees, and the wildflower poem!
Hmmm…perhaps you’re right!
Beautiful language, Patricia. I especially like the way “puddles on pillows” sounds, So much emotion in your words. Thank you.
Thank you, Rose.
I could feel the puddles and the dampness as I read, the storm proud of its accomplishment. I can hear the birds and the bees heralding fall.
Yes, here comes the turn…
I love those puddles!
…the puddles and the drips!
“Look what I did!”
I can hear the toddler-like glee in that sentence. So mischievous.
And I’m a big fan of sounds in poetry. FOREST GIFT is full of them that make me want to read it again and again, just for the juiciness of the sounds.
So interesting that I’m working on those sounds (and smells, etc) in a forest PB right now…
A “forest gift” indeed, Patricia!
Blessed!
Well, my comment doesn’t seem to want to make it to your house. Once again I start. I was just holding the baby until she fell asleep so I am in a calm state of mind. Your poem activated other “just being” moments. Your words are visual and your tone calm also. Rain does what it does.
hum of homeless bees’ sad song
clings in clumps
at the back of my throat
Your after-morn hours’ lines touch me as does the last stanza of the poem.
Thank you and enjoy the week.
Patricia, both poems are beautiful! I especially love your Forest Gift poem and photo. Such an honor to nature and Indigenous art.