I’ve saved two pennies for Henny.
Quick stepping under pieces of sky,
a flood of memories pouring in, I
had forgotten to close the shutters
and the world rushed in, needle stings
in the broken fabric, my face feels wet
and I finally found the reason why.
I hear the ping, ping, of drops against
the tile roof, a symphony of litanies
crying “Duck, duck!” but my legs are
hard to bend and I can’t get down. My
umbrellas are burning to keep me dry;
the doomsayers in the coffin box are
screaming “Help! we’re all gonna DROWN!”
I laugh, because I’m growing old, and yes,
I think I know about sorrow and pain. The
oracles speak of the coming Apocalypse
but I know it’s only rain.