Weather

Weather

  

Hood up, he drags his feet

through the morning’s puddles, away

from the dull fury of mother against father

and the duplex containing the dogs

and his small sister. The gray rain insulates.

He watches for the slick yellow bus,

its chain-call rounding the feral streets,

gathering up children

on the first day of school.

Nothing keeps him here except

the stop-sign at an averted angle,

continuously rinsed and red,

also taunting the sky.

 

He would rather be out

in the sloppy world, soaked by rain

unable to find a creek-bed.

With his sneaker-heel he carves channels

from one pothole to another,

and water gratefully follows.

 

… in awe of the will of water… December 2007, Oregon.

 

(First published by Hot Metal Press at www.hotmetalpress.net )