Archive
06/19/12 - (2)
Starry Rain-Music
We awaken not to the crack of Tuesday's five-o'clock sun But to the sporadic shudder of cabin-rumbling thunder, Then stir to rain clouds crashing, colliding, into each other, In the swollen black sky, hovering just above the lake's face, Over the roof, beneath which we linger, naked, Having stayed up until three, collecting constellations, Then making love of the most urgently primal kind, Our bodies interlocked in gently unbridled, fiery intimacy, Until we exhausted the passion powering our ardorous ecstasy.
Having decided, yesterday, after consulting the weather, That today would be difficult for canoeing the Bois Brule River, We're free to stay in bed, this sodden a.m., Listening, moving, to the primitive heavens' tympani, The rain's rhythmic sticks and swishing brushes, on the panes, Keeping time to our blood's syncopations, improvisations. For the next few erotic, pleasure-evolving hours, We compose jazz passages to accompany the sky's percussion, Whose notes are those stars we chose last night.
06/19/12 - (2)
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