JK ( / )

Tropic

Rain sounds out the wood and tin
in a matter of seconds,

elucidates the outline thoroughly,
makes a mouth-organ:

wood walls, tin roof, porch,
slinking, banging, creaking, patting.

You and I in parallel
lightly are breathing bedfellows

inside this water and house patter,
inside this long elucidation.

I think it's a hundred quiet years
since we kissed and we fell asleep.

by Judith Kazantzis

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.