Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Under the Rain

At the corner of Orchard and Pulaski
time struggles into its galoshes
to splash in the rain, to hurry us along,
and you, aping Gene Kelly, greet me
gesturing wildly, arms legs akimbo,
and sing as if all life were a musical
while someone claps, pretend applause
for the way you throw your head back
and open your mouth wide to show your fillings
testing the utter heroism of my decorum.

Squirming, I flash you a soggy smile
and, stepping in a puddle, reach for your hand,
for I can only relate to what I know,
how you once huddled and cried in your sleep
to erase ancient scars from your dreams
as nothing slips by when our fingers connect,
and though we might boil over at different degrees,
where I touch you, I am also touched.


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Prompt: an assignation/lovers’ tryst