All it takes is a long coat, a large umbrella, and rubber boots.
It doesn’t matter if it is a drizzle or downpour, just swing
with it: through the stippled curtain notice the deepened green of the wet hills,
the darkened trunks, the dripping, moss-covered branches, swing
your head right to left: savor the scent of fir, of mushroom,
molder, even that trace of far-away wood smoke, swing
your arms as you splash through the muddy puddle, your feet’s drum beat
in rhythm with the percussion of rain on gravel. For heaven’s sake, swing
yourself out of that easy-chair, to break its bane-full spell
grab the leash, feel Tippy’s heart dance with joy, enter its swing.