Her Nonchalant Way of Holding the Glass

Pressed against a porch wall to keep out of busy gray rain
although bare armed and bare legged not shy of it

prismatically shifting tissue thin wet hydrangeas
clumped compactly as brains

oh beautiful ditherer drenched and feeling changed

looking left looking right quickly drinking one glass
then another then washing the glass

The body as if trampled on in wet soft mud in which
deep prints of heavy boots remain

their sucking sounds

rain does not leave the face alone

dripping from the hat closing the eyes cool sliding past lips

inside the heavy canvas coat the arms try to raise themselves
but the wet coat is of such weight the arms cannot rise

First appeared in VOLT