blind rain

Under the rain, a motorcycle waits

Sheltered at an underpass, a beat late

To choose a different Sunday on the road.

It’s no use faltering over the code

Of rules I could’ve kept, in yesterday,

when the rain smacks the windshield of today.

Syria, frightened sister.  A poet-

hawk does little but pray for guns to own it

hears when Doctors Without Borders swear

chemical weapons tore people’s nerves–dare

tell me poems are not to wring the black cloth

of politics, to shrug reports of froth’d

mouths of children, thousands dead–it’s just too

far away to act. And, yes, we may cue

repercussions, and squint in the pouring

rain of what it is to fall to Glory

in the Highest supplication. I turn

to try to unsay/undo the past, earn

the peace that biker must have, stopped at just

the right time, in a blind rain, since he must.


One thought on “blind rain

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s