|Terrible Small Lips
||[Feb. 9th, 2014|10:31 pm]
The most furious downpours of the storm waited until I went out to go shopping. I came home soaked from brief trips through parking lots. Half an hour later I decided to rest a few minutes before cooking dinner, but I forgot to change my damp hoodie. I woke after four hours, and only when I unwrapped myself from the blanket did I realize that the hoodie was still wet. The Chilly air had made it noticeable, as I had forgotten to turn the thermostat back up on returning. I changed the damp hoodie, but now I have a damp blanket and damp pillow as well. The rain bruised me stupid. |
Oh, I forgot to take off my damp shoes, too. I hope I don't catch anything.
by Richard Shelton
when the crows fly away
with their compassion
and I remain to eat
whatever is left of my heart
I think of my love
with the odor of salt
of my love who holds me in her eyes
as if I were whole and beautiful
and I think of those
who walk the streets all night
frantic with desire and bruised
by the terrible small lips of rain
I touch you
as a blind man touches the dice
and finds he has won
The storm is showing its tropical origins in more than the mildness of the air. As I posted this entry thunder began rolling. I went to the back porch and saw flashes off lighting all about as the rain poured furiously again. This must be the tail end of it, but it's a very fat tail. A power outage is not out of the question. Must shut the computer down.
So glad you got some rain at last, but I'm sorry it soaked you so. Hope you don't catch a cold!
That's quite the poem. Wow, indelible images.
I've only recently found Richard Shelton, even though he's more than a decade older than I am.