Sticky Note from SML, May 9th

summer thunderstorms-

seems strange to be in a
library right now, with the
sky a white slate filled up
on invisible rain-

but i can still draw on it,
talk with ellie, feel reverberations
of deerfield days and
a boy and a balcony,
more summer rain
and poets,
wendell berry, "all that descends
must ascend again
unseen in thought light
and day light"
just like this rain, just like
the tickle of the year ending.

as brenna says, can we
just acknowledge the
elements
right now?

CVP