Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Her fingers knew the alphabets of rain

Her fingers knew the alphabets of rain
by Gideon Burton 

Her fingers knew the alphabets of rain,
the spilling heavens, spelling as they fell
among the hollyhocks.  Her lips could tell
the droplets’ pacing as their rhythm framed
crescendos to be felt but never named
by children watching sidewalk gutters swell
against their borders.  She could sound the well
of noons’ humidities until the drained
and flaccid clouds retreated to the east
beyond the tearing mountain summits.  This,
her testimony of the moistened light,
and this, the calm recession of the beast.
A marbled moment, braided with her kiss
along the shining edges of the night.

Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship

Photo: sk8geek on Flickr

1 comment:

  1. OK, so I am biased, but seriously, is this guy brilliant or what?