Hello there. I just wrote this. It came to me from a daydream. Hope you enjoy the poem. XO, Love to you, C.A. MacConnell.
True News
Raindrops on my face. Earlier, tears, but no one
knows. Minus the red cheek, at four o'clock,
I am beginning again. And now, my countenance
returns -- the calm cards and poker. Beside me,
you wear an oversized slicker. With a sudden force,
you unsnap, opening it wide, scooping me close.
Fiercely, firmly, you envelop me with your right arm,
tucking me tight against your middle and suddenly,
inside the jacket, we are half-wet, yellow, and safe.
Together, we are melting into the weather, a living
impression painted into the gray, uncertain quiet.
Both humans and birds are hidden, a wicked sign.
At any moment, the sky could break. Crouching
inside their homes, millions live solely through past
and future like keen, salivating reporters. True news
rests beyond the fear and the noise, within the moment,
within the honest, primal reach, the instant celebration
of pain and joy and life and breath. True news rests
within the thunder crack. Because when the threat
comes, we are laughing, muddy and disgusting,
nibbling on cashews.
C.A. MacConnell
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