T. Wooten

The rain starts softly,then suddenly is pebblingdown. I hear it hitting sill,then with throatier soundhitting ground. It came upfast, untutored by the season,overtaken by desire to enterthe world and make its mark.Where did it come from andto what end? Somewhere highwhere the air is thin and moisturecondescends to lend itselfto the elemental plan, wherelight is […]