How I Learned To Smell The Rain
A Poem for Devi Lockwood
By A.T. Halaby
I let the thunder sit on my
as I slept
as each drop of rain was paused,
make its move toward the earth.
Just then I witnessed sets of arms
as if meeting another
It’s this love I know, this love
it’s this warm, moist air cooling and
The thunder booming on my chest
rippling its voice through my body.
Then the lightning: the bright, bone-white
electrostatic discharge strikes
making space between the endless and
long sapphire space.
Its transformative silhouette
breaking up the blue in the
causing a temporary tear
in the earth’s canvas.
What I only see in a moment
I bet feels like a lifetime
of tiny pulsing pinches.
Poet-friend, I smell rain and I feel
tiny hands clasping around my body.