Doubters and Dreamers

It Was Raining

51 It Was Raining It was raining, it was autumn, a girl was in my arms. Perhaps to the east the moon rose over the crest of the mountains; to the south a procession of ghosts came swinging their censors of iron, and somewhere a prickly pear thrust forth its limb of thorns, a lizard dashed under a rock. But here it was raining, a girl was in my arms, and her skin was fragrant as wheat. Perhaps in the valley a flock of night herons settled in oaks and the bittern heard their hoarse cries; 52 on the coast a wave tossed a glass float on the beach and only a starfish noticed. But here it was raining, it was autumn, the girl’s eyes were gray and laughing. Somewhere a bell kept tolling, a mother called her child, and the child was singing; in the universe a meteor was falling, the wind stopped suddenly, an ice crystal was forming. But here the apples had ripened, symphonies were playing, and a girl smiled as she kissed me. My heart was fiery, but scared and breaking, for it was autumn and raining, raining, raining. ...