background image


The clouds a thickening gray
laughing hard clinging
to the little raft
naive to how the waves
had swept:
us, so quick to fall in love with risk.

Thunder broke water
flooding the pavement with sandal
soles weighted down;
running rough, euphoric
under the flashes
shaking ground.

You staked the tent careful
with extra tarping;
I convinced
nature would have its way
belly rumbling hungry:
I walked off seeking rain.

The skid of water sheering traction
its risk, brought you
to my bed and led me
out again.
My side cold, come
the dry spell of morning.

< back to Recovery