For Jodi Lister
Written 20 December, 1995
Even asleep she manages to make her way
Quietly, intensely as if searching for incriminating letters.
Looking up and seeing no one
I know it’s time to go to her.
To put aside the investment banking brochure
That will pay next month’s rent.
To forget until morning
Mergers and acquisitions,
Leveraged buyouts and divestitures
And listen instead to the rain
That’s been falling all night.
I want to wake her
Lead her to the window and show her
A rain that is more than weather
That is something rare
And arguably miraculous,
Like an eclipse
Or a hatching egg.
I go to her and watch her shoulders
Rise and fall as if lifted by waves.
Trolling her own waters, she has drifted
Too far out to hear my voice.
Again, I have waited too long.
Let another opportunity come and go.
The rain has stopped and the street reappears
Emerging from the dark like rocks from the tide.
Now there is nothing to do but wait.
Wait, listen and watch for her to return
Dripping, glistening, to learn what
Of the marvelous passed in the night.