Rain Medicine

by Oliver Hunter

Rain has come again.

The flesh of earth

Sits on my tongue

Its dripping dew

Sings across my throat

Greygreen feathers drift

Down through my lungs

And

Tin drum hollow notes

Bodhran thumb–taps

Creep across my back

Wet white air rushes

Out, lips parted

Vibrations in my bones

Deep thunder pulses

Irises bloom large

Luminous sky–mirrors

And

In my vessel of skin

(Two hands cupped close)

There sits enough   clarity

Enough cool weight

To drown me or

Enough sheer gravity

To retie silver threads

Of life and liquid back

To animal flesh

The flesh of earth