The Drop

The drop

Atop the chim-chimney, in evening’s early hours

Slow, slowly down rock, round midnight

Absorbed then disbursed by the skin of the roof before dawn

Why, oh why, can gutters steal you by sunrise

The fall


my voice evidenced
the most beautiful of white billowing
powered beyond the universe
since you decided never
now i sing of raindrops
silent, steady-falling



I saw him as dallying
In the rain
‘though so what if he was
That little old soul
That curious soul
When what was it, Actually
‘cept pursuing The truth
The absolute truth
The noblest of things….