April 1
First Draft
The Floods in New England March 2010
These days there are birds with raincoats
on my windowsill
I sit in my water free house
my dry fountain of sorrow preening imagined wings
Looking up at the sky
There is grayness and rain
in streets on roofs inside other's basements and bedrooms
clothes, couches, food, love photos of weddings and births
are soggy and damp
rivers rise brooks bulge, drips grow gargantuan
Gladly I praise my good fortune
to not live near a river bank
It is late for the sky to be so introverted with grief
No signs of heat and bloom buds
irises in the front garden
Nothing speaks of spring.
I am the pretender
Vertical lines of water fall
I sing loudly to overcome the sound
hitting my flat roof.
It is hard to see people running on empty
Hope is that thing with feathers
Call it a loan or whatever but let hope
attach itself to people's skin
after the rain.
after the rain.
Lines from Next Voice You Hear/ The Best of Jackson Browne
These Days
Fountain of Sorrow
Late for the Sky
The Pretender
Running on Empty
