The life before

Dark wings like a damp umbrella—
the smell of rain before rain itself.

Light a sheet beaten with spoons,
glancing mercurial off water.

High on cliff ledges, rare birds’ nests.
Mummies in caves, prim with drawn knees.

What you touched in me: medallion with raised edges.

Mummies in caves, prim with dawn knees.
High on cliff ledges, rare birds’ nests.

Glancing mercurial off water,
light a sheet beaten with spoons.

The smell of rain before rain itself.
Dark wings like a damp umbrella.

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.