A Sketch of Evening Rain

I saw gold tinted sky in west,
dark clouds setting up a
moody affair in south

A flock of birds was returning home,
in a perfect V with their evening song,
abruptly splitting, flew past my window
escaping lightening, thunder would follow

Dark clouds invaded west sky
wind took up the speed of storm
rain would come from south
rain should come from south

Trees in the woods have gone mad,
a bird from the flock lost its track
free-falling, wings flapping, falling

rain would come now
rain should come now
from south?
from west?

Humidity has possessed the head,
I’m sketching rain in my notebook,
the rain is not taking a shape

Wind screaming louder
thunder hammering hard
finally, the silence struck heart
and then the rain came,

from the west
from somewhere
words fell upon my page

Later, a raindrop landed
on my sketch of evening rain,
signed it with an amber stain.