Rain makes a room

This entry is part 11 of 15 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Spring 2016


Tuesday, rain, distant thunder;
and this restlessness
beneath my ribs.

I cannot pinpoint its source
though I’ve felt it before.
Ghost of a deep-

seated longing, skeleton
of a self looking upon itself
as though through other selves—

like rain pouring down in a room,
but always just a few steps
ahead of the moving body.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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