Kissing Terry in the Rain

I stepped out the front door
a coffee in one hand
my case in the other
strings of rain fell
like pearls
pattering on
the still hot coffee
I could have drunk
that coffee with the drops in it
clutched the mug
as if wishing to fill it
with pearls
I put the mug down
on the street where else
on the sidewalk
in front of the waiting car

The way he just stood there
the rain streaking
down his face
and pushing between us
as we kissed
his coat soaked
and my neck and hands
raindrops falling
from our eyes
like pearls he wore them
into the house

Gaski

The night-black rain
stands in front of our ramshackle windows
shutting us in like feeble birds
whose days drip heavy
when bread and cheese get low
we quit our lairs
and ducking past the mountains of clouds
make it to the supermarket
in which we stay
longer than necessary seeking advice
on the brands and that and the biscuit
as if the place brought us closer together
holding us there and together with others
who stay longer than necessary and discuss
the brands and that and the biscuit
the car takes us away
back to the houses in front of which
night stands black in the rain
while we bustle about inside
the night and the rain
filling the cracks
welling inside and laying
sleep on its backs.
We left the doors ajar.

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We drove
above us flocks of small birds
like dark spots
marking our way
through the sky
You were holding a cake
in one hand
I was eating
you turned up the volume
I listened
you pointed to the rain-drenched
barns and fields
I saw
the wispy mists
of your country
I am weaving you in
and he wove me in
we were late at the counter
why didn’t he
remove his sunglasses
I saw a few crumbs
where I had been sitting
and the way the leather bulged

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Grass-blades
stroke my back and bend away
fleeting touches
as if I had dreamt
wary my daughter’s
finger tips
before she grew
out of her room

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I reach into the air
it is wet and heavy
like drops on thin-skinned wings
sinking
until they touch the ground
and gather dust