I am fond of rain
June 28th

Can you hold on one moment?
I was outside weeding
and I need to take a pee.
Let me get my calendar.

I grab hold of a pillow,
a young teenager in love.
I asked the stars up above.
The hills and curves, the mystery pond,
of towns whose stories you can only guess.
And what they meant.
Take me to your heart.

I talked to my sister on the phone today,
talked to her—God bless.
She cannot respond
to whatever it is that is.
I can only strive to reach her,
Explain the room I’m in again

The smallest talk. Tiny. Minute. The weather.
I told her about the week of which today is part,
How hot it’s been,
sunny and hot.
Last week brought a few days of rain
Of which—did you know—I am fond.
In the life goes on department
I was waiting for a dentist to call me,
Next Tuesday I'll be substituting
—get this—for a summer school absent teacher.
And something I forgot.
Oh. We’ve been getting our Medicare ducks in a row.
I might take a train.
See the ducks? You know all about this.
Every duck has a price tag on it, you know.
You grab one at the carnival as it floats by.
I’ll get out there again in a couple of weeks, sis.

Bette’s down to ice cream and chocolate pudding,
Taking in a little water.
Enter the room I took on that was hers, after her.
The number of men named Raymond
in our family, the occasional Mercury.

The rooms from where we’re sent
The job I took in your footsteps at the five-&-ten
The rooms toward which our lives are bent
of yours I’d seen and others not
those we buy and others rent.
What ever.
Oh my darlin’ don’t you cry