Monsoon Season by magda n-w
It’s torrential
and I have never found myself
Hidden sweet between the pages
of a good book on a hot sun day
or in the lyrics of slow sung song
but here at the slid door
with just loose enough a latch
here at the edge of the world
where the wetness on the pane
pools at my fingertip, pressed
I am cool and it is blood warm
drowning rain, duck-perfect
rain to fill your lungs with
rain to fix your soul
Rain to wash in, dig your toes to root
walk heavy stepped through sodden grass
rain to drive the worms for air
to shake mosquitoes into frenzy
It’s torrential
little drips of dying and fresh air gulp of life