BIG RAINS
I sit cross-legged in the rain
and I’m thinking things over.
Sitting until my legs go numb,
until I begin shivering, think-
ing.
Dumber than an animal, I sit.
Not smart enough to get out
of the rain. If grandma were
alive her head would be shake-
ing.
Big rains all around me and
my clothes cling to my body.
Love doesn’t come but hate
melts in the incessant bash-
ing
water. I tremble. Close my
eyes. It’s good enough for
now, I mumble internally.
I dream of life beyond love,
dream of home. Begin to s-
ing.
John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
Fixator Press 