I, FOR ONE, CHOOSE RAIN
The bones were all disordered and covered
With a fine layer of dust. We were as
Surprised as morning that we had found
Anything at all.
We heard a voice crying out.
It sounded like it knew
Our names but we could not
Be sure. We could not be sure
Of anything. A green belt around
A pool of water, both deep and
Clear with a black bottom
That made the surface dance.
And it was exclaiming something
The entire scene was an accident
Of the tide. A blind wind and a blind
Water forced up to make a statement
That could never find words
But which would stand as firm
As God’s promise to a blind man
That he would see again. But no one
Ever saw. It became a clipped
Presence, never offering comfort.
I, for one, choose rain
As a veil. I will only see
What it allows; the edge
Of an alley, a man hurrying by
Bearing a large vessel that smells
Like coffee. He has long
Mustaches and wears a turban.
I had a fever and forget how the thing
Ended. She asked if there was real
Fire in my heart and I showed her
the pile of sticks I had gathered
To feed it. She looked deep
Into my eyes. I could see
Door after door closing, until there
Was only me and her once again.
Bones scattered all over the floor.