Rain, do

 

It didn’t rain
last night or the night before,
someone dipped the sky
into a tub of indigo
it sparkled white where the dye resisted

-or maybe those were stars dissolving
into the firmaments fabric-

It didn’t rain
this morning,
the sun glowered
and the gladiolas withered under his hot gaze,
weeping just a little

-or maybe those weren’t tears
but the breathing of the world
kissing her red brow-

It hasn’t rained
this afternoon,
swans have taken flight
drifting across the faded blue skies
their wings moving rapidly

-or maybe those are clouds
carrying rain that’ll quench our thirst tonight.