After the Rain

We stand in sodden silence
ankle deep in the sudden carnage
of our sun drenched revelries.
All about us a carpet of
ruined roses, whiplashed carcasses
from fevered summer's storm.

Thus purged by black rain
we regain treaty and note
with morning's timid rays
the creep of body heat
stealing in to redress
the uncharming chill
of our inner tremors.
Till at last sinews sigh
and lie again placid, torpid
loosed from the torque
of our unquiet isolation.