#58 Kinship by Rae Marie Taylor

“Maybe it’s the rain”, she said
as her hand sketched its fall

eyes wide, face turned to me,
sure
“Maybe it’s the rain”
as if so sweet a secret were not quite believeable
grace revived by rain, kinship revived by rain
water
rushing day after day
in the high desert

abundant wild grasses and white iris growing
without the grumbling of gardeners
only the acequia, lapping, every morning

tall, broad sunflowers, awkward with beauty
scarlet penstemon blooming long past their spring
spinach, corn and rain
she said, “Maybe it’s the rain”
rice grass waving, thigh high
feet slithering on logs
over the river
thundering meanders
as her hand sketched its fall

Rae Marie Taylor performs in poetry venues in New Mexico and Quebec, and has authored and produced several one-woman shows-among them An Earthly Hour: A Human Time at the Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe, as well as the Spoken Word CD Black Grace with the musician David Gossage.


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