Rain | News | Seven Days | Vermont's Independent Voice

Published July 12, 2006 at 4:00 a.m.

On a day rain softens

until there is no air only water

I take off my clothes

and go naked into the garden

a water man among water trees

water shrubs water flowers

the green frogs too are water

jays and doves are water goldfinches

flash like light reflecting in water

the houses of chipmunks and snakes

by the pond are water

in a world of water

fish swim on the underside of water

only the woodchuck under the shed

a bureaucrat snuffling over papers

a poet with black eyes is dry

after drought even the fish dance

when we kiss when you take me

into your mouth when I take you

into mine the bee is inside the rose

the rose entirely humming

the child emerges headlong

from the humming waters of the mother

from her viscous parting

heart gills shut forever wet mouth opens

takes the mother in omphalos rush

still ringing in his ear canals the sound of rain

sister to a thrush's song at evening

over and over repeating inside and out

whip of the hummingbird's tongue

at courting apogee of pendulum

turtle's cracked mud eyes wet again

I cannot tell on which side

of water skin between us I am.