The way of rain: “into our own nowhere”

Old headlight of a car

There once was a world

Without rain, without the golden
thread, my obsession for you, for
rain, for what I cannot ever have
like a lock of your hair, a piece
of silk scented from your body
marks me a wanderer forever —
silences my words, and what’s left
of all my obsessions, all my memories
of my fall — will outrun me, and my secret
garden made of fear and silence
will die, untroubled as time

(From my notebook. For the poet Frank Stanford, 1948-1978)

photo credits

(Where not otherwise credited.)
“eye headlight” / by TravisPhotoWorks on Shutterstock