It’s just that simple.
You get up.
You go stand at the window.
You watch the rain
–Just like those other people
in that building
across the way–
And you forget everything else.
Let it all go.
Let the rain do its job.
–dissolve–
Then you breathe
and think about the message you’d send
to your dead father.
I’m sorry Dad.
I didn’t realize.
1.
Finches gather seeds
of thought while
clouds pass across
imaginal vistas
rain-washed vestiges
tracing
the lines leaving you
far behind leading
to the brink of
what’s reality and
what’s recycled,
yellow-green bellies
and clarion calls.
2.
Immersion
in Poetry
Light and
clouds sailing by
an azure arc
above
viridian seas
swatches, snatches
flashes of
winged jewels
humming
nectar drops
of dew
scent of time
lingers on
the air as crisp
as apples
3.
The birds are in the basil again
eating what’s gone to seed
bringing to mind Monsanto
and mutations
unintended consequences of
not-so-well-thought-out plans
Dying Monarchs
bright orange and black
bellwethers, bees
and canaries
Annisa Tangreen