Even in the Desert - Feb. 4, 2022

I’ll duck inside myself

when it starts to drizzle

on days I can’t watch everyone’s

wet posture of surrender or

branches bowed in a rain

prayer or what’s shed

from clouds that shudder

probably just a memory of sadness

that leaked through the ceiling

and down my cheeks

warping the floors of my

heart the ones I just

replaced from the last time

I was too lazy to care