POETRY

Reading Job in Riverside

A poem.

Photo by Sole D'Alessandro G. on Unsplash

The rain.
Your breathing.
My heart beating.
Someplace warm.

Our laughter built cathedrals
in a storm.

Stares a bit too long.
Looks a bit too rare.
Just say the word —
and I can’t meet you there.

Don’t know if you remember,
but I do,
reading Job in Riverside next to you.

I couldn't meet you then,
but now,
what I’d give to know what you’ve been up to.