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Through the open window, the
summer rain blew in. The cold
Wind woke me. My parents' candle blazed throughout the night
They kept candles burning, burning, burning in their house.
I watched the flame--it fought to keep its light. Shadows
Threw themselves against the whiteness of the walls like epileptic
Sleepers whose dreams could not be loosed. (Their past
Pasted to them always. Sleep would not bring forgetting).
Though I yearned to shiver in the wind, be washed
In summer rains, I could not live with shadows in the room.
They came too close. The wind blew strong, but
My mother's candle refused to surrender its flame. Awake
To the storm around, I stood alone, and shut the window
Tight. My parents' flame burned bright; the curtains still;
The shadows in the room stood calm again. The light was peace.
Outside, the thunder sang a
song as if to cry against the heat
That ruled the drought. Tonight, the stars were exiled
From the skies. The lightning struck and struck; the light
Was blinking close outside the room. Come and see, come outside
And see. I will show you all the cities of the world. I looked
Out at the Storm, and in the light could see: my father's
Rusting tools about the yard, a toy my nephew left without a
thought,
My niece's skates abandoned, the pinon tree whose branches waved
like
Children in distress. Then dark again--and once again the thunder.
Another flash Come outside and see. I will show... Among
The things forgotten in the yard, I thought I saw myself. I was
A boy of six running toward the window of my room, and as I ran
Grew older. Closer, older still. I searched the face for signs
Of some emotion, of something he possessed that I misplaced.
The face I wore back then was lost to me. I could not hold him.
He continued running in the rain. Then everything was dark.
The thunder cried again as if
to crack the desert with a whip.
And then another, louder than the last. The anger of the night
Had stilled the ceaseless howls of every fenced-in dog in every
Yard. The rain was heavy, hard, pounded and pounded the house
With something more solid than rain-nails. Nails--I remembered.
My brothers, and hammers big as their arms, pounding and nailing,
Working in a sun that scarred their skins. And my father sweating
Hard, water moving down his chest fast as a stream. I saw
Him take a drink, moaning at the sweetness. I thought
The rain would never stop. I wondered if the roof would fall
This time. What can a roof withstand? How long can it protect?
It is only wood and nails. It is only melted tar. I shut
my eyes
Tight as I'd shut my window. Tomorrow: nothing. What we built
Would be gone. All would be taken. I thought of the boy running
In the rain, nothing to keep him warm. I waited for quiet,
For calm. I wondered at prayers my mom and dad had uttered
As they stood before their candle in the dark. And now,
I prayed like them. I prayed like them. The sky still raging,
The sun knocking to get in,
I fell asleep. When I awoke, the sun
Burned steady as the candle in the room. That light was peace.
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