Rain
In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:
392 LISTEN HERE RAIN from Door to the River (1992) The wooden barrel at the corner of the house spilled rain in storms and my mother washed her brown hair softer. Cool and wet, she listened from the window. Her eyes were brown as the river while the barrel drowned in silver light. I was five when my father stacked our beds on towers of blocks, hoisted tables to the ceiling and we left the house riding in a boat. But we could have perched on the roof and floated downriver, water rushing wide and high, to the top of a mountain where the house would tangle sideways in the trees. For years the scent of rain flooded my mother's house. In a dream we swam from room to room when she opened the door to the river. ...
collapse
You are not currently authenticated.
If you would like to authenticate using a different subscribed institution or have your own login and password to Project MUSE
Authenticate
