Poem

if & when
you pour the rain down
& my eyes are open wide...
summer is over
the coffee is hot
it's still opening
over the highway
lookin' like a day on fire.
there's too much
world to wander
to sit so still
& to fade so pale..
when it isn't even over
it isn't even close...
it's still opening
over the highway
lookin' like a day on fire.
there's no water around here
the line & the color both disappear here.


Now don't go getting the idea I'm into poetry.
I'm not.
I think poetry is stupid.
Maybe not as stupid as musical theater,
but certainly something approaching that vicinity.

But lately,
I find I'm noticing certain written works that have me rethinking my opinion on the matter,
and this is one of those.
Written by my friend, Rebecca Ryan,
whose lyrics, voice and adept songmaking I've admired for some time now,
I received this in an email just the other day.
It came without title or explanation,
so I might have to confess that some of its appeal for me is the mystery of it.
(Seemingly) random occurrences rule!
I am a total serendipity addict,
and though I know that's not quite what this is,
it could be something approaching that vicinity.