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
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.
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.