You rinse your hands, hand over hand,
and shake the water off. It rains.

You toss your head, and each blazing hair flings
a cloud of crystals. Snow drifts rise in our yard.

You whistle, and whirlwinds spiral,
rearranging the dust of the Great Plains.

Breathing, you excite the ocean;
your waves lick our shores and retreat, like You..

You blink your eyes in what is for you
a nano-second. The planet goes dark.

You thump the drum of firmament;
we hear an affirmation of thunder.

You listen for us as we listen for you.
A thin membrane tears. Sometimes.

Luci Shaw

All poems are copyrighted by Luci Shaw.
To be reprinted only by permission of the author.