Rain Away

The sky is crying crying
Hard.

I know what she is thinking...
that the world needs a wash;
that she mimics the way Haiti wails--
when blue air collided with cracked earth,
she saw the people sucked in
and protested
Hard.

I let the wind
throw the blinds into the living room air.
I let it speak,
I let it whine.
I don't want music. Not now.

I am so safe and to tell you the truth
I'm guilty; I feel guilty, warm and happy.
Stupid, I know.

Tonight, we gather ourselves in our coats
and feel the rain soak through our shoes.
Our car wheels sound like little wet cymbals
as we glide
over the reflections, the streaked yellow globes of light
on the black cement.

When we arrive, we shake off the chill and sit down.
You crack me a beer so we can whisper at each other
inside this dark blue bar,
legs draped over your lap.

It's all so far away--
the rumbling
at the window.

I'm so safe
who's not safe
we're not safe
At all.