Rain by Marc Alan Di Martino


It rained for the first time all summer
today. Rills of atmospheric runoff
filled the roof gutters, sloshed down the sides
of our house. The car glowed like a glazed
donut, or a dog freshly praised
by its owner. I read once how
in the youthful days of Earth
when all was barren and alien
it rained for 200,000 years straight
swelling the oceans, prepping land for life.
You have a debt to rain. You owe it this much: listen.


Marc Alan Di Martino is a Pushcart-nominated poet, translator and author of the collections Still Life with City (Pski’s Porch, 2022) and Unburial (Kelsay, 2019). His work appears in Palette Poetry, Rattle, Rust + Moth, Tinderbox, Valparaiso Poetry Review and many other journals and anthologies. Currently a poetry reader for the Baltimore Review, he lives in Italy.