The wind blew in
I gathered my skin,
my first thoughts beckon,
Now I'll begin.
We've shaken hands,
and our words were like casual prayers.
And when you're gone,
and the words can only be thought upon,
I still pray.
So tonight while the shower head spat,
pummeling my back - my prayers
finally spilled over
I was forced to close my eyes,
letting words of love
in disguise with an amen
fall from my mind,
washing through my hands
with no soul to absorb.
It was only when
the exited the shower
that the flood of thoughts
showed their true power
in a single tear.
Jordan R Shaver (1999, originally published on Poetry.com)
NICE
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