Nice Marmot

If the rain thinks

that this is an emergency,

can we organize it

into something like speech?

*

Never a mountain wanted

over rain;

its formlessness is a

repetition tho

of what no one is quite

sure.

*

Nothing can sleep like the

rain, whose irony is never

quite far behind.

Each drop an

erasure of what

comes before.

*

If the rain is an abstraction,

then each of its bodies

rise, perilously, in black and

breathing.

*

The rain is a door

that opens and closes

like an eyelid straining

to watch,

against sleep,

its first opening.

*

Each drop

a revelation

to the roof.

*

Driving through it:

each line passes

into then becomes

an other.

The spaces in-between

are filled with something

like rain.

*

The rain at five o’clock

is what it is. The rain

at mid-night is something

else entirely.

*