NaPoWriMo / NaPoREADMo — Day 4 — Rain


(Thanks to all who have liked and/or 
commented. It's 11:30pm.  Been on my feet since 7:30am.  
I promise I will respond to your comments as soon as I can.)






When it rains
I get wet
and I walk on down the street.

When it does not rain
I do not get wet
and I walk on down the street.

Whether it is raining or not,
the puddles speak to me.

Molecules want molecules
to remember their common origin.

They therefore admit, 
these bodies all around,
ocean to ocean,
cloud to cloud,
water to water;
unsure, uncertain scope 
of the circumspection 
of return 
to life.










Bone’s Memory

(another one for the "Bone Cycle")


Bone's Memory

I can tell that it's raining 
without looking or listening.

After a gallon
of chopped celery,
a negative space 
in the shape
of the handle
of a knife
persists
in the hand. 

The point where 
bone meets bone 

wants to become 
bone,

wants to become 
a monument 

to the form
of its function.

This function wants 
to become fossil.

This body remembers 
what it does 

long after 
the mind has forgotten.









Missing (Part 3)

Part of a series.  Not necessarily in any order.
Part 1 can be found here.
Part 2 can be found here.

What my friend Jeremy, of The Sand County, calls “boundary work.”  Flirting with the edge of meaning, loss and memory.

————————————————————————-

Do you feel the rain where you are?
Is there water there in the far
reaches of memory? Does time
fall through the air, like brittle rime
crusting the sea? Is this weather?
Tenuous shifts of the tethers
that tie us, each to our own place?

I stand in the rain, raise my face
to the falling sky as my sight
becomes a part of the pale light
that is left to us, and wonder
how we can all be so sundered
and still hold together all this
madness, beauty and darkness.

Rain






When it rains
I get wet
and I walk on down the street.

When it does not rain
I do not get wet
and I walk on down the street.

Whether it is raining or not,
the puddles speak to me.

Molecules want molecules
to remember their common origin.

They therefore admit, 
these bodies all around,
ocean to ocean,
cloud to cloud,
water to water;
unsure, uncertain scope 
of the circumspection 
of return 
to life.









...puttin' the Po' in NaPoWriMo...