A old poem for a rainy weekend
Rainsense
1. An 8-year-old girl stands by the fence. She is alone. It’s a cornflower night of weighted stars, silence. She runs naked through the yard. As the family sleeps. 2. In class, we follow Socrates, Phaedrus. Trail the desire of their words, the curve of the river Ilissus, their steps. As the weeping willows despair on the other side of campus. In the rain. 3. There were too-many crows rushing up at once. A billowing black, a feathered cloud. The university names them nuisance, and twice a year they’re evicted. But in a few months they’ll return, bursting with intent. 4. She pretends she is a nighthorse. Her name is Avery. The arched-over trees are giant lungs breathing. She runs as fast as she can. She runs as fast as she can. She runs as fast as she can. 5. Along the river, they are surrounded. The mania of cicadas an endless hum. Socrates speaks their song to Phaedrus. His words coil around our bodies. We turn the page, hold our breath, wait for them to touch.
6. A woman sits in the woods listening to the rain. It’s the sweet drum of fingers or endless baboon punches, depending on your mood. Or how long it’s been raining. Or if you’ve ever lived in a city that’s been through a major flood. The water splashes on the leaves, the trees, the windows, the roof. All of it a dream. All of it a nightmare. 7. A white-tailed doe and her two fawn walk through the grass. Rain falls on the lake. A woman recalls the touch of air. The grass against her legs. And the doe snorts an unexpected warning. 8. She’s been in the woods for so many days she no longer knows the time. The rain goes on. Then the sun. Then the rain the rain the rain the rain. Rain or not she walks through the fields. Sees Queen Ann’s Lace, echinacea, butcher’s broom, wild cotton, so many black-eyed Susans. And the rain. 9. The sun cuts the forest wide open. The sky lightens. The rain continues on. A girl was once a horse. And somewhere in the universe Socrates clings to Phaedrus. 10. She tells me this story after class.
(C) 2013. L. A. Parker-Danley
