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Return (June 1991)

I

I awake at 9 a.m. to the sound of the rain

and can't get back to sleep again.

So I sit on the porch and watch the puddles form,

watch the black bird bathing in the rain.

Some would call this a portent;

Blackbird, grey cloud, chill teasing rain...

But I know better than to look at the future like that.

I don't look at it at all.

I have this day to listen to the rain

as it cleanses my world

washes it clean again.

~~~~~~~~~~

 

II

Later on that day I find you blowing bubbles.

Like the bubbles in puddles I know that they are good.

They float away with the clouds, just wandering,

No place particular to go. And I can go too.

You say you find four-leaf clovers as we walk you home.

You share your luck. It comes off in your hand.

And in your lips

I feel myself going with the bubbles and the clouds

and returning with the rain.

~~~~~~~~~~

 

III

Soldiers have been coming home for days.

Students are returning their books.

Much knowledge passes through these walls.

Many deaths for dollars have kissed this year.

But I can only die to myself time and again.

Today I only live to hear the music play,

to feel the wind and the rain coming down

to explore the world

within

whatever makes us

who we are

you and I

and wherever we can go...

~~~~~~~~~~

 

IV

I have no fear of darkness

of lightning and of rain.

Although the storm is violent

all becomes clean again.

~~~~~~~~~~

copyright1991anthonybaldwin

written June 1991, Purdue University-West Lafayette, IN)

Go ahead, learn something....I dare you!