Rain/Night Owl/Eagle,Eagle/If We Had – by KELLI SIMPSON

Rain

 

She’s my stars strung bone to bone.

Weather walking east to west.

Everything the gods know –

blessed.

 

She’s the cross clasped to the breast of night.

The smudge smoke for appeasing saints.

The stone I sleep and dream upon,

and when I wake

 

she’s the rain.

 

Still I drove a dozen dawns

to seek counsel on the mountain.

Climbed until my hands were raw

just to hear a wise one say,

 

“Be still and know that I am dog –

stars beyond your ken and counting.

Worlds beget more worlds,

but some truths never change.

 

The only cure for drought

 

is rain.”


 

Night Owl

 

I want to be someone else.

No, something else.

A bird.

An owl.

A big-eyed owl with wet silver wings

and talons that can pluck out an eye.

 

I want to nest up in the rafters

of that Deep Deuce jazz club,

the one that opens late and closes early.

I want to hoot when the horns move me,

and screech when I’m feeling the swing.

 

And, when I’m flying low with a contact high

and spy the Monday morning mouse,

I want to whisper,

 

“You’ve slept a dozen deaths.

Welcome to the resurrection.”


 

Eagle, Eagle

 

Eagle, eagle,

bumblebee.

Hive up high –

aerie on my knee.

Can’t hatch honey,

so I set the feathers free.

Eagle, eagle,

bumblebee.


 

If We Had

 

If we had evenings

in companionable silence;

if we had nights

of discarded lace;

if we had mornings

as others have mornings,

 

think

of the poetry erased.


***

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Kelli Simpson is the co-author of two poetry collections: Gemini / Scorpio / Capricornand Three Note Howl: The Wild Hunt.  Her poems have most recently appeared in Sugar Mule. She lives in Norman, Oklahoma, where she mothers, gardens, and treats herself to chocolate as often as possible. You can find her at http://www.mamaneedsshoes.blogspot.com.

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3 replies »

  1. “The stone I sleep and dream upon, / and when I wake // she’s the rain.”

    _____

    “I want to nest up in the rafters
    of that Deep Deuce jazz club,
    the one that opens late and closes early.
    I want to hoot when the horns move me,
    and screech when I’m feeling the swing.

    … I want to whisper,
    ‘You’ve slept a dozen deaths.
    Welcome to the resurrection.'”

    _____

    “if we had mornings
    as others have mornings,

    think
    of the poetry erased.”

    _____

    Mama, you are GOOD.

    Like

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