Rituals

I will sit still in the rain

letting heavy drops wash me like unction

in every bead drifts a bit of earth 

 

I lean on the old poplar tree

it rains with rough leaves over me

my soft palm is pressed against the bark

as if it were a fresh wafer

I am a mere prey for tired homeless birds

their flight’s blue shadow fills in my shadow

pecking at my smile

 

it is cooler

I’m stumped piously

my arms are cracking and bending

I stick my hand over my heart

the only hollow left

saying hello to solitude

Reviews

[Emily B]

these are the perfect words for me today

wonderful

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

Thanks, the end is quite sad...