The World Needs A Stronger Blog...

I heard the rain rise up from the ground.
Heard it swell like a boiling pot or a frying egg.

And just as quickly as I heard it rumble I felt it fade.
But just as quickly as I heard it fade it had returned.

Up and down and back and forth like a volume knob pendulum.
I heard the orchestra warming up and tuning their strings down the hall.

I smelled something sweet and warm like a wreath of tangerines.
I closed my eyes and felt her soft hands against my rough face.

She was pink and white, Plaster of Paris.
I was black and red, asphalt of New York.

I kissed her forehead as she slept like a ballerina.
Big eyes bulging but gently behind white sheet eyelids like Filo dough.

Closing the heavy door behind me just as softly as I could.
Off I went with wolf to find firewood in time for sunset.

Soon sweet wolf had wandered off and I was alone.
I ran my fingers through my graying beard giving pause.

I stopped to listen to the wind weaving through the branches sky above.
Wayward raindrops still finding their way down through the pine.
The wet bramble underneath the oxblood boots of my youth.

And just then I heard the rain rise again
As the wolf returned with a giant branch.