call for rain:

I feel the wind.

Airless, breathless.

I can still feel it.

Falling, ghost-like.

A wraith, a revenant.

I mark the calendar.

Stained with coffee.

Your memories or mine.

Half-empty or half-full.

Ever the optimist,

you take yours with sugar.

I can’t taste, but my

tongue still burns.

The things I want to say.

Held in like hot coals.

The steam engine still runs.

I begged the shepherd.

Laid my head against the dirt.

Found peace in humility.

Realized I only grew

because so many people watered

the roots.

It’s peaceful here.

Between when and where.

A hazy sentiment.

Hopefully it calls for rain