full moon in four days
for Jose
you
sent the rain
into the tide
of wind you sent it
into the
rake-
furrows
pulling
back
the sea.
They
were old
friends
the rain
and
the
sea
Thunder and flash
are passionate
gatherings, a canopy
of cordite and crack
as
though who’s going
to
war has returned
to
break the host
of mass
in two: you
high in
the
sky
saturated
with the
persuasive rain, a train
of
cloud rolling
roiling derailing
far enough up
the tracks
that
ocean
and rain
salt
and plain
comingle
until
time
and heat pull
them up from
their watery
bed
and
change them
completely,
the way
the
war trampled living
who
still
look in the mirror
after the battle
knowing it’s
not
them
returning
but
something
else
entirely
because
of the rain
and that salt
that brine
of road and
sky
and
foam skeining
together
palms
wide
open hello after all
this strange time
friends,
always now
friends.
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