relentless rain, the cistern overflows
the distillation and
collection of all the sadness of the left behind.
water, the dissipation in
swirls and ebbs, eddies and whorls
of blackness into light
and back to black
bodies
of water.
the all encompassing ocean
is in the rain drop
concentrated as essential loss.
the volcanic crater:
a lake purpled by altitude
as a granite bowl of ink
against the sky turned dull and listless by comparison.
drowsy with color, drifting in all directions.
trunks in silhouette
gnarled by the short light of the long summer morning.
in a car, nearly 45 years ago,
with my parents and my sister.
the stagnant puddle
teams with larvae and pollywogs
losing tails to gain legs
A spent battery
a clot of leaves
in the rivulet in the gutter.
Cookie Del Rio wrapped her car
around a light post after
too much beer and too many reds.
30 odd years gone down
and where would she have been?
Would she still live in Woodland
chasing after Mexican boys?
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