The Rain ...

Day 1: Black clouds, suddenly.

                                                                          Let loose on the tan and dry.

Day 2: Washed the oil off the road.

                                                       And the birds from the sky.

Day 3: Thought it was earlier

                                      morning – in the dim I slept.

Day 4: I saw my mirror's smile

                             fading – like a secret kept.

Day 5: I went for a run; the rain

                       felt warm, by the sun above it.

Day 6: I drank what I'd bottled –
                 clean and pure and cold. “I love it!”

Day 7: I took a shower – that felt so

             stupid, but I did anyway.

Day 8: Had lunch with a friend.

         Our soup was warm, but what more to say?

Day 9: Thought about taking a trip,

         just to see if there was something over cloud.

Day 10: My neighbor's footsteps. To the fridge,

         the couch, the fridge. They're so so loud.

Day 11: Thought of heaven. Missed my
          grandpa for ten hours, off and on.

Day 12: I crossed my hands, in hunger –

            said “Så vi äter bröd i Jesus namn.”

Day 13: Wasn't so hungry. Didn't eat.

              Lay down on the floor. Such mud. All sinking.

Day 14: A thinning, bright cloud. By the time

                       It cracked, I was 

                           in a crowd outside. 

                                                Unblinking.