Mistaking wind in the leaves for rain,
willing the sky to part like a sea
and drown this dust of graves,
I’ve planted my prayers, performed
my dutiful rain dance,
and applauded the weather enhancers
for their faith in salts and crystals,
my face raised like a collection plate
and my thoughts, as always,
solely on survival--the best place to be
in an earthquake, the air; in a fire, the sea;
how a glacier might be harpooned
and reduced to migratory bits,
so many buckets of water, trays of ice.
I'v…
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Posted on April 23, 2009 at 5:14am — 3 Comments