Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
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All night the rain keeps the ledger, counting each roof tile twice, tapping the gutter for answers,
We stop where the road bends west, where his name is tied to the fence on a strip of weathered cloth.
It's raining again and I have nowhere to be angry about it.
Because the bus was late, I watched an old man split an orange and give the brighter half
She took the photograph so everyone else was in it. Later I found her reflection
My thumb keeps lowering the bucket. News, wedding, wildfire, joke. A dog in a yellow coat.
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