i nonni stanno piantando
i fagiolini li
nei loro giardini al Parco
dei Fontanili
i pesci sono tornati
a nuotare nel fiumetto
sotto il ponte
la lavanda comincia a
fare i fiori violi, profumando
l’aria, chiamando gli appi
ma tu dove sei
eri qui, ne sono sicura
avevamo camminato qua
insieme a la mano
guardando i piccoli fiori del castagno
rubando le more di gelso
there will be
scarlet macaws
to fly over
emerald jungle
there will be
night rain to
conduct the chorus of
a thousand trees
there will be
more ocean
in the world
than you or I have
dreamed of
dawn will be
gentle as a mother
when we
open our eyes
can enough rain fall
for these thin sticks
cut off, pushed
into the ground
to send out
their own roots
to stand alone
to dare green?
can the sky
hold the weight of
so much water?
can time
hold its breath
so long?
like a planet with
no gravity
all of the deer have
fallen from my forests
and plummeted into
the sky
the eagles and butterflies have
flown free
oceans lift like
thunderheads and
my silent riverbeds
hold no fish
trees cling tight
among clouds of
dry leaves
cacti and sage
remain
remember last year how we
watched it rain?
remember how we
ran outside the
first night we heard
drops hit the roof
and stood on the front porch
embraced
watching silver gold rivers
pour in stripes
to the ground?
we knew it was lucky,
that the year’s first rain
deserves recognition
I kissed you
the jungle around us
opened its thirsty mouth and
swallowed deep
remember how you
were tired,
achy in the middle?
I didn’t like the
new pallor under your skin
and I bought you
electrolytes for better
hydration
it was already too late then to
stop the storm
that was coming
remember the thunder
so close
the roof peak cringed and
the cats flicked their ears?
remember the lightning?
we hugged each other
tighter feigning fear
remember how you could
warm me then, when
the dampness made me cold?
water filled your body
and finally
everything stopped
remember me petting
your hair as you
fell asleep?
the rains have come again
the thunder, the lightning
disturbing the cats
we sit together
on the dark porch
in silence
watching little rivers
form at my feet,
trying to understand
this distance
time is nothing
time is
all you have
mark its passage
keep it
let it go
can wind be a
measure of it, or
is time a measure of
how much wind
has slid through
your branches?
where are your leaves?
they have fallen and
wind has
taken them away
don’t look
wait with
eyes closed
hear how much time
fills the universe
catch it
hold it tight
all you have is
nothing
this is the poem
about 4 months
of silence
you think that is a
long time but
the poem reminds you
it is only the beginning
in it, you can hear
clocks tick
wind
an almond leaf scuttles
through the yard
it is a short poem
but the 4 months
are long
moonlight
drums on the roof
like rain
