See You in Seattle - Flipbook - Page 6
6
Your words fall onto my mind
like droplets of water—
raining thoughts
for a rainy city.
i. I Wonder
I heard that, where you’re staying,
when it's not raining, when time runs out
for a day, that the sun will cry,
smearing the blood of Apollo
across the sky.
Life rolls on
with valiant effort.
I wonder if you find
sweet and simple solace
in the sound of turning waves,
those sweeping ghosts
of blue silhouettes.
We all have roles to play.
Romance is a farce.
Poetry written by men
belongs to women.
Beauty is short-lived tyranny.
