1.
Thrum upon the roof,
the creek stretches loudly now,
rain streams day and night
from heaven’s dark skies—
a decade of dreams and prayers
descend upon us.
2.
Our totems come and go to rest
before our eyes, eagles and herons
inspect our souls without asking,
families of quail titter at our feet,
antlers tilt to consider our hunger
in places we mark in our memories.
3.
She doesn’t care, has no compassion
for our self-indulgence, shapes her track
of least resistance embracing landscapes,
rearranging the gravity of facts
we must endure when she leaves us
with fresh metaphors into the future.
drycrikjournal 