On holiday

  Forecast says rain all week,

  scattered-brained thunderstorms

  and chance of silky lightning.

  Farmers are rejoicing,

  caught

  in the middle of a rain dance,

  models are bending their straighteners

  in fury,

  school kids are walking

  the sidewalks, backpacks draped

  over their heads like parasols.

  I didn’t come all this way to watch the sky cry.

  Open the doors, toss the umbrella

  like a parachute into the cotton clouds.

  Join me—no time to waste shoveling aside storm,

  looking for sun.

  Learn to love

  the feel of rain.

  Dual helms

  You don’t need to share

  shadows,

  meals,

  hobbies,

  careers,

  money,

  babies,

  games,

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  walks,

  friends,

  dreams,

  fears,

  straws,

  blankets,

  thoughts,

  sights,

  words,

  joy,

  cereal,

  trips,

  photographs,

  smiles,

  sobs,

  pain,

  umbrellas,

  the bed,

  your hand,

  true freedom.

  But I remember the years

  when it all gaped like a cellar

  door, begging to be filled

  with light, another flashlight

  breaking the lonely dark

  of down there.

  I need to share

  shadows,

  meals,

  hobbies,

  careers,

  money,

  babies,

  games,

  walks,

  friends,

  dreams,

  fears,

  straws,

  blankets,

  thoughts,

  sights,

  words,

  joy,

  cereal,

  trips,

  photographs,

  smiles,

  sobs,

  pain,

  umbrellas,

  the bed,

  your hand,

  true freedom.

  I do.