Thursday, June 01, 2006
There is no safe tomorrow, only fear
which follows night. Anticipation waits
behind the sun, beneath the moon. I hear
the voice of God each time the wind abates -
each time a shadow falls - each time the rain
revives a drowning ghost then dissipates
to bonelesness in soft tearstained refrain.
I've been insane. I've been the woman, frail
and wan, with parchment skin. I've been restrained.
I've traced my name in raindrops on the pale
soft flesh of strangers until God foretold
the danger and the downpour turned to hail.
I've been afraid. I've watched the storms unfold
around me while my lover's lies grew cold.
I talk to God. He leaves the truth untold.