OCR Text |
Show DAVID. IT'S RAINING Listen: how today folds into falls of rain! -we cannot see past gray; the walks, the houses, hills through the wet pane are blurred and far away. Rivers of rain run chilling through the street, wash down from trees, flood the mind's tunneling maze, until they meet old prayers on rusty knees, Not-quite-forgotten shades of those who tried with ritual to find warm answer for echoing rooms, for beds grown wide, a sleep to weep behind. In thought I walk again the grass-green slopes among those granite stones remembering how it was when all our hopes fleshed out your bones; I crumble with rain-spilled names, discovering too that touch of truth among the quiet company surrounding you in your stopped youth. |