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   r i g h t    a s    r a i n

--- C O R E Y   M E S L E R

            “I saw a white ladder all covered with water…”
                        Bob Dylan

The clouds look like heads of state.
Our dog makes herself smaller,
a wee hounding.
The first crack is a chamade we were
ready for. The crack
in our armor.
Darkness comes like a felony.
When this is over, we say with our eyes,
we will resume what we
were doing, not preparing.
Finally, what fell fell with kindness
and foresight.
We all breathed again. The TV 
reception was crowded,
a popular party in place.
We stayed away from politics, the windows,
the food on the credenza.
We are a people, at least that, one people.
We move as one. We hold each other
gingerly, with a
nuclear family’s arms. 

© crossconnect, inc 1995-2004 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |