promise of fresh rain

under deep shadow hope becomes so slight
that we are still astonished at the day
forgetting that the whole thing is a play
and when we draw the curtain enters night
a character skulking at edge of sight
and interfering in the normal way
with anyone with useful things to say
since every action has to be done right
a purple glow at the far edge of dawn
reminds us that the standard rule is change
approaching us only at proper time
we wonder just what card we could have drawn
but then the answer has gone out of range
and morning bells have just begun to chime