Poetics

Finally rain can gooseflesh pavement and hang like fat crystal bats from the railing, and morning finally unrolls like gauze over the eyes.  Our cat hunches down before the sliding glass doors of our live-in porch, saucer-stared and shocking; every drop is a current she absorbs. I’m blind in the melee, brimming with only this sound: rain pricking pavement, fingers shuffling keys.

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