I have as little control

As the rain slipping from the eyes of skies –

Of people, of places,

Red rain salvaged from my own veins.


I can’t control what leaves me –

One way or another

Loaded nothings,

Birds from my ears

Into the world to join the millions


A whole flock, not just one or two,

A million flocks.

It’s just who I am –

One in a million,

One from a million,

That makes a difference.


The rains are coming.

A winter inside,

A million winters inside summers

Inside cities with beaches and late-night gin.

Inside hearts.

Even pulsated out, slowed pulse into frozen dead.

In the wintered heart

The rain still flows,

Who they are is still so very much alive

Their birds still fly,

Millions, invisible, flocks –


And I dance with them.



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