Child

There was a rhythm to the rain
She could change it with her will
From a corn field waltz
To a field martial drill
She lay quite still
And felt her limbs stretch
And the white bed spread
From birth bed to death

But she knew not death
And felt no allegiance
To how she came to be
Or the come and go of seasons
She did not walk backwards
Was not afraid
She lay quite still stretching
To fill in the rain

It was summer of course
And that twister green light
That a Midwest storm brings
To engage day to night
Lay over the room and from under the bed
Cool cement breezes brushed into her head
And she dreamed of distance
With her eyes open
And all the insistence of objects was broken
The twister green light let tables and lamps
Become deserts and dancers
And oceans and tanks

As she dreamed of a harem
A snake charming flute
Uncoiled from the eaves of a rain beaten roof
In time it turned into the first violin
Of a symphony she simply found in the wind
Of course it was summer
And she was a child
And the course of her future
Was rain wet and wide
Young girls have no power
That’s what they will say
But here she was changing the rhythm of rain

New Orleans 1996
© myshkin 1996