Rain by Risa Denenberg

Rain

Most days, I no longer long
for you. The rain has become
my welcome mat.

I soak clothes and skin in it,
bleach these personal stains,
staunch my body’s needs.

Nowhere is it fully documented
how terrifying it is to be me.

I dream in haiku
as it taps at my window
in tart syllables.

by Risa Denenberg, from blinded by clouds.

Editor’s note: This poem is not quite a haiku, but it holds the spare simplicity of the form. Emotional impact doesn’t always require a thousand lines.

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