November Morning

November Morning

I heard it last night,
water coursing down tree limbs,
rooftops, gutters, roadways, cars,
and trash bins. Did the
outside of things get a good washing?

The morning sky is a damp cotton cloth, where
light seeps over the tree branches outside my window,
along with steady wetness. The season
of washing the outsides of things
has started. The tiny drops rush into
prickly tree needles and brown places: the leaves,
the fences, mossy eaves. The cotton sky keeps
the world inside warmed and contemplating,
while making the outside of things cool, wet, soft,
reflective.


(11/17/2011)