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Early Rain At some point tonight this early rain will swell and slip its ribbons underneath our tent – it will pool, pull the polyurethane fly against the nylon shell which will fall upon our bodies and make of us one slithering skin we’ll shed in the morning, split then stuff into the hollow wells of backpacks – the splash, squelch of each footfall from camp to lunch, a gray lick under bloated oatmeal clouds where we will argue over our mess and the things we carry through it, and will be no drier. But for now, we lie silently beneath the beautiful rhythm the sky is tapping on the other side of ourselves. Previously published in SubTerrain #56 Back to Poems |
| Copyright © 2008 Rob Taylor Photos Copyright © 2008 Marta Taylor |
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