it rained in my sleep
and in the morning the fields were wet
I dreamed of artillery
of the thunder of horses
in the morning the fields were strewn
with twigs and leaves
as if after a battle
or a sudden journey
I went to sleep in summer
I dreamed of rain
in the morning the fields were wet
and it was autumn
--Linda Pastan
Published in The Invisible Ladder, 1996
