Because its language is foreign
damp and full of rhythmic tapping
but unintelligible to us
except for a vague recognition
that this language
is cousin to the current
of the creek in spring
Because its language is foreign
we don’t know what it says
Insistently. Relentlessly. Day after
day for three weeks, the rain
wants us to know—
Some mysterious thing
Maybe it is saying, with its whole self
—don’t be stingy
with what you have to give.
Give Insistently. Relentlessly,
day after day
Until you wash something
Away.
Puff Of Smoke Poems 
Here’s a poem content with its fate. Message given like rain does to gravity. Long short, a wondrous wonderful read. The poem is full, as they say in three bears land, with just enough, neither too little nor too much. It builds, it fits like a glove, and that last line is exactly right for being last. I get excited when I read a poem that delivers this well. Thanks Paula.