top of page
What the rain gave


 Coyotes at bedtime 

      during bathtime and stories,

toothpaste, pyjamas, the dark


dim shapes on swift feet


          hunting rabbits and squirrels

small dogs called away


and the children at windows        

 who would run naked

  brush of rain on their faces 

nose to the wind,  eye to the bush, just in case


It doesn’t matter now

what goes on in those houses.


the children


are wrapped 

in scent of wet fur, hints of red at their lips, on their cheeks, 

      their small feet are damp from the dew   


they’ll wake safe and well-fed. 


Fierce dreams keep them alive.

Syracuse Cultural Workers Women Artists Datebook 2021, December

bottom of page