Rain’s Aftermath
Fat caterpillars of yellow seeds
Hang down from the cottonwood trees.
Forgotten rain drips off the eves.
Above our heads, flying weapons of war circle.
They will save us from the enemy.
Who will save us from ourselves?
While the cords of the nether world ensnare us.**
Grocery shelves bulge with endless bright bags of empty snacks.
The liquor aisles spill from their confines screaming the latest
in alcohol soda pops.
They feed our bellies and starve our souls.
Obese teen girls stare at me in the pool locker room.
Hugely overweight, they know they have
committed social suicide, but don’t know what to do.
Clearly, we need more rain. Rain to wash it all away,
Take us back to the garden. *
*Joni Mitchell, 1969, Siquomb Pub.
** PS 18:6 NCB
Cew 7/21
