It's raining outside
but gently,
like fingers massaging the roof.
I thought a bright sun
would be necessary
but when the body
makes up its mind
to heal,
then any weather will do.
A roll of thunder
knitting bones
wild wind imitating
sickness blowing out of here
and the lightning begins.
| r.kv.r.y. winter/spring 2007 poetry the weather outside by john grey |
