Sunday, March 8, 2020

Slumber

I noticed the first raindrop
on that last Saturday of winter
because it landed on my nose

The second hit me square
in the eye as I tilted my head back
in casual curiosity

The third, fourth and fifth fell
in a drumbeat on the hollow log 
at my feet

these were generous
healthy raindrops
that made certain promises
that were full of gravity
and humor
that knew what they knew
and didn't suffer questions
or fools
lightly

After that, I lost count
and listened to the rhythm
rather than reckon with numbers

I slumbered in that final rain

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