Rain

I didn’t close the window
when the rains finally came.

The summer was so dry, so hot.
My open window only a passage

for the crucible searing phantoms
in the brain dancing with fire.

When the rains finally came, I kneeled on
rough, dry wood beneath the open window.

Curtains, an angel’s flight
shrouding my face, and me, the lace reader

running through the holes.
I am Balzac and the little Chinese seamstress,

remarkable creatures, willful and precise.
Catching my breath in the wind

of the storm, its tears spilling
coolness, anointing me

in this faithful place of wooden
planks and coveted release.

.

.

.

The August Rain Project at Tweetspeak Poetry challenges poets to write a found poem about rain using book spines as a prompt. I couldn’t take a photo to post of my chosen book spines. I hate to admit this, I no longer purchase paper copies of books unless they are spectacular. I keep telling myself there are many happy trees because of this.  So I headed to my Kindle and chose some of my favorite titles.

With almost 60 days of over 90 degree weather in Colorado this summer, I was shocked to see little wet drops falling from the sky earlier this week. Our tornado sightings are half of what they usually are, thank goodness. And I can count on two hands how many times it has rained in my backyard this entire year. Fire lit up our skies and smoke grayed them much too often. This poem fell into place after such an unaccustomed summer.

Book Titles and authors: The Crucible by Arthur Miller; Phantoms in the Brain by V.S. Ramachandran; Angels Flight by Michael Connelly; The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry; Holes by Louis Sachar; Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie; Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier; Catching My Breath by C.J. Prince, Joanne McLaine and William C. Thomas; Faithful Place by Tana French.

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