Rainshower Girl

She was light on her feet
The rainshower girl
Moving through stormy weather
Avoiding the sudden
Floods along her path

Her speed was its own shield
Against the pounding water
From slate-gray skies overhead
She moved quickly and wildly
To find her way safely through

Suddenly faced with an unexpected
Ray of sunshine amid the downpour
Bursting through clouds above her
She was startled, and paused, and
Found herself overcome for the first time

Heat and light and power
Came from an unknown, unseen perch
And pointed to high ground
She struggled to keep her breath and
Swim to this saving shore

Following the guiding beam she
Pushed through rapids and undertow
And grasped the side of the rock
Pulling herself to safety, to air,
To dry land, something unknown

Feeling dirt and grass beneath her feet
The rainshower girl
Slowed her tempo, and for the first time
Paused enough to breathe in
Sights and sounds and scents

There, in that strange place,
Warmed by the sun, above the rushing
Waters, green and fresh with life,
She could live, she saw,
In this place she could live

Table Set for One

Night air warm and dry
Silky fur of cats
Brushing the skin of her calves
Mewling an unintelligible
Chorus of sorts

Sliver of a moon
Chattering and chewing mouths
Distant honks of impatient taxis
Banal songs from a piano
Her table set for one

Cool, white wine,
Crisp asparagus, tart cheeses,
Salt-kissed fish and warmed cockles
Red, fleshy tomatoes
Crusty bread, drizzles of oil.

A perfect night
But for the emptiness of the air,
Silent conversations,
Untouched skin and hair
Coffee unshared


Then, strangely, sounds
Intermingled,
Taxi honks and cats' meows
And piano tinklings and splashes
Of wine hitting glass bottoms

She remembered the strains of a
Song, a chorus she finally understood,
About a lonely man sitting on a
Beach of beauties, watching a
Strange woman walk by

He was lonely, but he loved,
In that moment, the stranger
Unreachable, the prize
Untouchable, the rush of
Emotion filled him with life

She stood, with the courage
That only loneliness can fuel
And walked to the microphone,
Startling the bored piano player
From his waking nap

She asked him if he knew the song,
Though she did not speak his language,
And he did not speak hers,
But the language of music
Is universal, we all know

Together, he played and she sang
Blathering diners snapped to attention
Astounded and fascinated by
The lonely woman singing
About the lonely man

Her voice was low and breathy
Perhaps due to her fear
But it sounded right in that moment,
Full of longing for someone
To reach through the distance

She was not a great singer and
He was not a great piano player, but
Together they filled the empty night air
With a beautiful song, one that grabbed
And bound them all together

Despite the chattering mouths and
The clinking glasses and knives and
Honking taxis in the distance, they
Were all lonely in some way, it seems, all
Knowing the feelings of desire unfulfilled

So the lonely woman singing about a
Lonely, longing man on a faraway beach
Was their song too, and they
Could remember lost moments such as these,
Lost opportunities

Suddenly they were not alone anymore,
None of them at all, not the homeless cats,
Not the diners making empty conversation,
Nor the honking taxi drivers, nor the
Bad piano player nor his sudden muse

No, they were all bound together in that
Moment when they all realized
That they all shared the same need
To be touched and held and wanted,
By beauty that cruelly passes them by


She walked back to her table, to silent,
Stunned faces, but after a moment passed,
Sudden bursts of applause, and this
Warmed her for a moment, and overflowed
Her table set for one

Talauma (2)

Tangled arms
Outstretched fingers
Grazing the window
With each sway of the breeze

Cowering in the darkness
Frightened by the sounds
Like nails scratching
Trying to burst through

Soothed by his words
They are merely leaves
Wide, deep green arms
Flowers white and fragrant

Suddenly, winds swirl
Violent beads batter
Scratching and scraping
Quicken, an ominous song

Crashing sound
Window breaking
The long, dark, green arms
Enter the room

Twisting and falling
Onto us, shocked
Faces lit by
Flashes of light

Giant white flower
Cupped hands holding rainwater
Descends from its roost
Landing on the bed

Strong perfume
Fills our noses
Capturing the air
Captivating us

"It is alive!"
I scream out to him,
And he answers,
"Yes, but it protects us."

I breathed the
Potent fragrance
Deeply, filling my blood
And I understood

Great white flower
Passionate, clean, vivid
Conqueror of senses
Master and shield







 

Talauma (1)

Together they stood beneath the wide, heavy branches
Of the old tree
For scant protection from the rainstorm

Slashes of warm water ricocheted
Off the deep green, waxy leaves
That were like outstretched palms
Trying to cup a drink from the sky

With steam rising from the ground
And hanging thickly in the air
The heavy scent of the creamy white flowers

Strong perfume
Sweet and lulling them both
Into indolence

"Why is it that you can never find a taxi in the rain?"
He joked, water dripping down his cheeks
And into his mouth,
Where she kissed him
Interrupting his laughter

There were no taxis to be found for sure
In the middle of an island farm
Where they had walked for hours
Under bold sunlight and a cloudless sky

In this place, the sound of a motor was rare
Replaced by amphibian croaks
And flapping wings of insects and birds
So tiny they could be mistaken for insects

Time seemed to slow
They sipped fiery rum from small cups
And ate bananas that tasted like ice cream
They smelled the blossoms of the old tree
And walked toward it to see
If it still bore fruit

There they stood, trapped for a few moments,
While the clouds emptied their load
Filling the air with steam that would
Catch, then release,
That intense perfume

They would never forget that scent
But realized that they could not take it with them
For if you remove the flower from its stalk
It withers and browns
Some things must exist only as you
Know and feel them in that moment

The Jade Tree

The leaves of the jade tree
Are fat and succulent
Skin shiny and smooth
Filled with juices that trickle out
If you press them too hard
Between your fingertips

The constitution of the jade tree
Is very hearty and strong
It drinks very little water
Surviving on mere drops
That come infrequently
From spare, quick storms

The arms of the jade tree
Curl inexorably
Toward the face of the sun
Making elegant arches
And seeking its warmth
Its light

The progress of the jade tree
Is measured and slow
It takes many months
For it to twist and bend
To adapt to changes
And give birth to
New growth

The soul of the jade tree
Is very quiet,
Speaking little,
Asking for almost nothing,
Only drops of water,
The light of the sun,
Gentle touches and
Fresh air and space,
So it may breathe
And live on

Velvet Barstool

Small, darkened room
Paneled in colored papers
Rimmed by low cushions
In the center
Like a nestled pearl
Was the bar
Shaped like hands
Cupped together

I slid onto
A velvet barstool
Rich, plush, deep
The fabric latched onto
My silk skirt and
Pushed it aside as I sat

Bartender offered only a hint of a smile
Her hair was unnaturally platinum and
Pulled tightly away from her face
She placed the menu before me and
Slyly twinkled as I stifled a gasp
At the outrageous prices

However, I came to this bar
To drink, so I ordered
Some exotically named concoction
With gin and herbal liquors and lime
And as the bartender withdrew to
Mix my cocktail
A man sat on the open stool next to me and
Asked if I minded if he smoked

I said, no, because this was a smoking bar
In a city and in a time when
People did not complain about such things
Being bothersome, and he smiled, and
Offered me one of his cigarettes.
This being that sort of bar, I took one,
Placed it gently between my lips, and
Leaned in to accept his flame

Drawing in a bit of breath, I tasted
The tobacco, an expensive local brand,
And somehow it felt right, and after the
Initial head rush I felt relaxed
Just then my cocktail was placed before me
By the silent, smirking bartender,
A drink cradled in a tall, slender, exotically curving glass,
Liquid blue and shimmering in the light above,
Light diffused by the swirling smoke from
Our shared cigarettes

I struggled to adjust my bottom
Against the thick, rich velvet of the barstool
And leaned awkwardly toward the lacquer bar
To take a sip of my cocktail
Without spilling it
Like any clumsy bumpkin would do.
It was icy, crisp, but echoing with sweet fruit
And gave off a slightly floral perfume that
Tangled with the scent of the tobacco


Around the room, on the low cushions,
Sat men and women, mostly talking in hushed tones,
Sipping their drinks with
No looks of pleasure on their faces, just
Expressionless, leaning close to each other
To speak so that no one might overhear them, and
Not making eye contact with strangers.
They were almost to a one dressed in black,
Trenches, trousers, slim flat shoes,
Pale faces, mussed hair, a bit bedraggled
From the cold, driving rain outside
Cheeks starting to thaw and flush
From the warmth of the bar and the
Fire in their glasses

I sat there silently as well, slowly drinking in
The scene, the
Gradually inhaling all but a smoldering nub
Of the strong English cigarette
Offered by a stranger who smiled,
And taking at least one hour to consume
The most expensive cocktail I have
Ever encountered in my life
I would say that I enjoyed it all very much
Despite the solitary nature of the experience
And the steep cost
But it wasn't exactly enjoyable
Only deeply imprinted on my mind
A silent pause, a respite on a
Cold and rainy afternoon,
Trapped for an hour on a velvet barstool
Smoking cigarettes with a stranger
And passing the time