Two sides.
Every leaf,
sun in shadow,
green on green,
the half-light end of day
drips to darkness.
Heavy-wet and reluctant,
water under a paddle,
resistant to what inevitably comes
silent and stealthy,
a full-on cacophony,
hard put to
let go.
In the desert or out on the ocean it is possible to see it - the edge of the rain. Whether approaching or retreating, the edge is a promise that the rain will come and the rain will end. Standing in the middle of the desert, drifting in a boat on salty water, I cannot decipher the weather, but my eyes are endlessly scanning the horizon for the edge of the rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment