Sorry if a wrong turn brought you here.
I want you to see what I see,
Tell me what you think.
Places I’ve been, people I’ve seen
Events real and imagined, fantastic and mundane
In paints on a canvas, dancers to a beat
Landscapes familiar as handwriting
All times of day and all manners of weather
But what are they?
They are, they are.
Can’t you see too? My words wouldn’t do these pictures, these movies,
these feelings, smells, sounds, sights
So there they remain.
I imagine them as children with noses pressed
against a foggy windowpane, pouting because
They were told “no” to going out today
And I stand dumbly, dry, outside
watching and wondering
why they won’t come to play
When I am the rain.