I think of the journey work
of each of these rain drops,
how the studious landings burst
on the skin like surprise kisses
waterfalls that drape every stair
and the leaves hiccuping bigger
in quick gulps, swallowing time.
For I don't cry, who would know?
This sky is now world's cage
it dissolves; is strong, is sullen,
threatens in words too primitive
to howl rainbows at them.
Don't hide your face, my love
--in your safe, plastic landfall
there is also a middle, an end.