My Body Hungers For Rain

I want to walk under a slow gray sky see grass thirsting green.

I want to bundle against the chill feel my hands, cool almost ready for gloves my neck warm under a red plaid scarf and my legs, my feet longing for the work of walking uphill.

I want to watch red squirrels chasing on the trunks of oaks above rivers of broken acorns.

And I want to inhabit myself in the world that offers me breath.

. . .

And despite the political and economic drama that calls my attention and
tries to co-opt my mood:

. . .


Life’s Little Secret
 still is.

Am I not old enough to know? Why hasn’t my guardian angel whispered the answers to my questions?

All he ever says is “It’s OK.”

© Karl Frederick 2011

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