Relax
Fingertips of rain at my back
I keep walking into dry air
I pretend I am bringing the rain
as my cape
The gray building I walk past
is perfect and smooth Buttery
concrete
Last year what a disaster
this place was
The bedraggled skeleton
building wished very hard
every day until it got to become
a real place
Now there’s no telling it to relax
is it now full or filled with life? now i'm curious, mi amiga
ReplyDeleteHannah, Still a grateful reader, though a quiet one these days! Coming out of quiet to say the first two stanzas are especially lovely--rain as your cape, and you walking into dry air. So many images of such depth-filled beauty in your poems. Thank you.
ReplyDelete