We are still sleepwalking
beneath a thunderstorm in watercolor
and there may only be one place
where we may feel correct
at any moment
be it some front porch in blue galoshes
or the edge of the state
howling to the river
an attempt to eat the starlight
Tonight we are in rooms
reaching for streetlamps
or basements or airplanes roaring
We always belong beneath rain
We put it there because it is needed
Though invisible
we must find ways of manifesting ourselves
This occurring on our behalf
This on our own terms