Joseph O'Keefe​

My Book of Rains

​

 

 

On the pages of the book I seek are rains

towering drapes of twisted grays 

small bright coincidences

cool plunging toward heat

 

Thousands upon thousands of syncopations 

rhythms older than rhythm itself

I want to know precisely how

falling waters

fix light so fiercely

 

I want to see rains of every form and type

from every land and cloud

violent certain torque and unexpected goodnight kiss

to remind me of my endless fascination with you

​

​

​