A light rain is falling in spring, and the speaker’s attention settles on a birdhouse. There, green lichen has spread across the roof. The poem is a haiku, so each detail carries weight: the soft rain, the living green growth, and the small human-made shelter for birds. The ampersand after “rain” works like a quiet gesture, linking the falling water and the lichen as if both are part of the same gentle renewal. The speaker doesn’t announce an emotion; instead, the feeling comes through the close, unhurried noticing. The mood is calm and tender, with a hint of fresh, damp air and new growth. It suggests a moment of looking closely at something small and finding it quietly beautiful—spring arriving in mossy, rain-washed detail rather than in grand display.
Light Spring Rain & — Summary
light spring rain & green lichen on the roof of the birdhouse