READ A POEM

LECTURING MY DAUGHTER
IN HER FIRST FALL RAIN
6 October 71
(This poem has been permanently incorporated into the design of the Midwest Express Convention Center, Milwaukee.)

this then is fall rain.
i spoke of it

in july, telling you
rain has textures,

telling you july
rain drives deep for

dry roots, to fill them,
drives in at warm

angles, softly. i
told you then fall

rain is cold, rough as
wrought iron, sometimes,

bent as rusted nails.
you were content,

though, to wait, to learn
this rain by touch,

to measure your blue
fingers against

the still warm places
between rain-drops


on your surprised face.