Anne Marie Rooney
Sabbath for a Dry Season
It was not raining, had only
once rained, would never rain
again. Across the river the sun
made angels appear stoic.
In a dark wet room two people
burn holes in each other. In Styx.
In the middle of a dope dream
and the walls are very quiet
and the sky is burning
and Out There
in the thin night
there is a girl unhooking her bones
•
If Love is
strings and bark
the backs of bows hitting rock
ankles caught at the bottom of a bed
Jupiter and his 63 moons
If faith is
Dumb Luck.
Sticky lotteries in a pick-up truck.
•
They write books about this sort of magic: It is dark
forever and then it is light. Deer legs buckle into
two shooting stars.
No one is bleeding behind that tree.
No one is writing poems to stop
that make-believe blood.