Rain Dance

After we were married
it started to rain.
We drove home.
He bought me flowers
I bought shirts he never wore
and gradually he got away
from ever wearing
me. I live with his dreams.
I watch light from the hall
caress his back
while the storm at the window
makes love to the glass.

(written 1980s sometime)

My sister married a sailor
and spends her time chasing
water underneath the bridge.
The bridge was never burnt
the night the torch was lit,
so now, she’s crossing it again,
returning home to watch
the window,
the harbor,
and the sea.

-written in 1979