A gentle rain falls tonight, pattering
on the roof of this California house; far off
drumbeat from another time. Unravelling,
my mind unwinds the breadth of America,
cabling the chill Atlantic; coming back.
Like an old broken bone
my betrayals ache. I cough
in the surprising damp. And still
takes my breath, barely drawn,
right at the shore of hope.
Nevertheless, I packed my old rucksack thick
with limpets and mildew and clinging
leeches, my old regrets
hanging one upon another
like the rooftiles above me,
and I answered; an odyssey of toil.
stand at the doorway of your
universe, all light
precluded. The drum beats
beats, beats, and the blood quickens
in my veins.