Things Could Be Left in the Rain

Things Could Be Left in the Rain
Things Could Be Left in the Rain

THINGS COULD BE LEFT IN THE RAIN

A

Sat and ate nettles

in a village of our bones

soft cotton wood shade

to be born a human being

a noble-hearted baby.

 

When they shoot at me

run quickly to the five mountains

visions of sickness

to cold enormous unknown

our fragile nature rising.

Spike from a new smell

a deep expanding odor

mildew from the rain

moving and staining like sound

or center of cloud sleeping.

 

Thirst for melted snow

city lake full of calm ducks

kindest of marrow

to come from domestics womb

continue search for new birth.

 

Beauty in normal

our love a sentient stone

science-conscious sex

under shuddering eyelid

we may never leave these clouds.

 

B

Leap through snapping beak

to hide under a charred log

store River Salmon

along with fresh Strawberry

a feast for this lone badger.

 

Logs turn in river

things could be left in the rain

elderly rest homes

truth the sweetest of flowers

quivers in our nerve endings.

 

An empty body

open to love-receiving

should have kissed you long ago

now flung away with shale dust

or leaves caught in a clear ice.

 

Bees in fire wood

valley of the Red Cedar

smooth stones in the creek

on a bus to San Jose

to stand near strip malls all day.

 

Sand scorches our feet

dying fish struggle in weeds

seawater from eye

the sun dries tears as we cry

all I do is dance and dance.

 

C

Words of dead mind-worlds

mingle with wild geese near wood

horse’s eye flutters

as a lead rope is pulled tight

ankles tremble on wet rocks.

 

Ancient spinning show

turned into factory jobs

worn to the knuckle

universal radio

or redundant flashlight.

 

Two days without food

still my hand reaches along

mud streaked inner thigh

a sunless cave ritual

to an endless changing hill.

 

Wet whips our bare legs

as we buzz around among rocks

in rain and thunder

a tingle we shouldn’t feel

we should go back but we don’t.

 

These imperfections

one dull scale on trout’s belly

rubs off on your hand

in a village of our bones

things could be left in the rain.

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Jamie Lee Hamann
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Jamie Lee Hamann

My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished seven collections of poetry and plans for more. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website simplepoetics.weebly.com. The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

2 thoughts on “Things Could Be Left in the Rain

  • July 5, 2022 at 7:29 AM
    Permalink

    Interesting phrasing in what seems to be a journey through meditation, with sporadic revelations. Well done on SEO requirements as always, Jamie.

    Reply
  • July 19, 2022 at 3:51 PM
    Permalink

    Thank you Phyllis. After returning to this work I also find it oddly disjointed in weird but kind of refreshing ways.

    Reply

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