Friday, December 30, 2016

Sarah St Vincent Welch #365 rain



birds call before the rain
flap as if to fly, huddle
we don’t know when it will stop
our road a river
the river a sea
our veranda a boat
breaking off, pushing out

the boat is a tree cracking
in dirty swell and debris
no land to reach
we grab at branches
twigs and leaves in our mouths

wake from our dreams of drowning every night
ask
how did you sleep, did you sleep?


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