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Standing In the Clearest Rain
The clearest rain
trickles down my nose
And runs into the dry cracks
Through dripping hair
Seeps into my bones,
Reflecting lights flash ….red and white
Humming a silent incision
As they swing… white and red.
They sparkle in the droplets
winking secrets unseen
By the guilty bystanders
Who must look beyond
Their red and white and
Truncated fields of vision
While the clearest rain
And warm tunes dance
Red and white and
Swing white and red again
Whose beams bang
Out a jig on the tube
Then, leave an inky stain
On smoldering ice cubes
I stand immoble
While the clearest rain
Washes down the pain.
Betsy Schreiber (c) 2009 Glen Head, New York
poem
by
Betsy Schreiber
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