This poem will remain posted as a memorial to poet Tom McClellan who passed away in August of 2013. A reading of the poem can be heard by clicking on the player below:
There I was in the madhouse again,
That summer you remember as the one it didn’t rain
So long the paper ran front page ads for the record-breaking
Drought. Every morning I’d stare into the hard hot sunrise through
Brown tinted shatterproof ––
Your brain finally tells you the crepe myrtle blooms
Eight stories down are really pink despite your eyes.
One day the clouds at last
Gathered low and dark and spat spare droplets on that mirrored barrier ––
Then summer’s fever broke, and I watched my tears
Land and gather thick and run down what kept me from feeling
Rain.
Copyright Tom McClellan 2001 ~ all rights reserved
To read more poetry and prose by Tom McClellan, visit his blog HERE.
Love this poem.So evocative of place and point of view
I have lived this poem! It’s beautiful.