Easy


 
what evidence of summer storms remain
upon the stones devoid of life's dark stain
what succulence can droplets add to fruits
when orchards nonexistent haven't roots

what grief then should the cloud against the earth
whose jagged mountaintops provoke to birth
precipitation frozen from the womb
feel for the granite seed to never bloom

and so my love my love is nebulous
unblown away it hovers anhelous
awaiting signs to justify its care
yet while it lingers raining gently there

without evaporation from its cause
it dissipates as if it never was
 

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Niki Lasher (a.k.a. Nubianne Kthulah Black)
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