5:25 a.m.

split the sky

A crimson streak has split the sky
ten minutes before coffee
having woke in the darkness at 3:30

What do I owe You for this spectacle
in the middle of fractured thoughts
letting the clouds break for just this now

Hanging full and heavy these clouds
like full breasts, they
threaten to burst out but then do not

Hovering gray and pendulous
with just this slash of red
surrounded by periwinkle and ash

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Raining for days

Are we fools–-
The rain falls and we avoid it
afraid to shine
in the middle of puddles
to be struck soaking clean
in May
still trying to get it up–
that umbrella
we are better off without

Are we off our heads–-
when we walk in opposite directions
despite the signs in front of us
mile after mile
not to mention the one
on which I smacked my head
and all those words
you knitted together
through the winter

Are we finished–-
the rain falls over us
where I tied you to the park bench
a gift so that just once
you could see inside my head
while I dance in the rain
tell me, when I untie your wrists
and your ankles, will you run–-
or will you be dancing with me
when the morning comes

69.

I see the end coming
far off
(but sure)
I feel the pull of the earth
weakening
when before it held me tight

my eyes blur, and
you are hazy there where you sit
nearly with me
but somewhere else
at the same time
the fog rising between us

I see the end coming
far off
(but sure)
the aches are greater
when it rains
and your anger pricks me
when I cry

contemplating why
I have failed
to dredge up empathy
among the roses
or even pity
this dry spell of months
drags heavy behind

***

photo used by permission