Purposes Unintended

The tracks of the storm lie on the stones

Of the path through the wet deep grass,

Paving stones from an alley in town

When the street was mud and the sidewalk oak,

Laid in the yard to protect women's shoes


Passing like weather, the walk

Ridiculed as useless by the well-adapted,

But good for reflecting the brightening sky

When the cardinals are singing the end of the rain.


. . .