What the Rain Gave

Coyotes at bedtime

during bathtime and stories,

toothpaste, pyjamas, the dark

dim shapes on swift feet

watchful

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