Hell, it was just a bit of rain

But now it's freakin' sunny
And the trees are lapping up the light
Like puppies in the morning
Hungry damned trees
eating without a prayer
First. Straining toward the flit
of butterflies on their branches
And you'd think they'd shut up
about the rain, but they just can't

But now it's freakin' sunny
And the trees are done crunchinging the light
They're done waiting for the Chinese
to admit they're damned liars about the ages
of their gymnasts and they're done worrying
about winds strong enough to twist elbows
The wrong way. And you'd think they'd shut up
About the rain, but they just can't

But now it's freakin' sunny
And the trees are napping in the light
like kittens on the tattered rainbow edges of a sun-catcher
(and not one of those cheap-assed one's made
in China – the really nice Italian crystal ones fused together
with real lead) Finally, they just sway with fat barked-bellies
Belching out another afternoon and you'd think
They'd shut up about the rain
But they just can't.