Sunday Evening Blues

It's been a rainy weekend in the Northeast. Today it poured so long and so deliberately that when I went outside the sidewalk was covered in some places with a livid green paste, buds raked from the trees, engorged with water. Squish squish. And now this poem:

"Mapmaking"

As a child in the family trade
I drew, though not to scale,
Sea creatures and the rogue crests
And troughs of stupendous ocean waves
Tossed by calligraphic gusts
Towards the edge of the page.

And on the long, sunlit boards
Of our old Binghampton
Street porch, I wandered.

Once or twice—No,
Many times—I remember now:
Dragon's breath blew through the yard.