Cloudburst
Sadie came back from the rez,
riding in front of the thunderstorm
moments before the sky broke loose,
banged on my door
and hollered my name —
never mind the two years
gone without even a parting
cup of black coffee
just grinned and said,
“I knew you’d be here.”
And she was right
as Red Lake when she laughed
and said, “We musta missed
each other down at the pow wow
last week.”
Didn’t I see her
in the bleachers or hear her
cussing the poor excuse
for fry bread they were
trying to pass off?
Her cousin will show ‘em
how to make it if they
can’t do no better than that.
Storms fly in on
the Doppler, green
blobs heading this way,
but no cable station
can tell when Sadie will
blow through and remind
me of the way rain tastes
when it’s laughing.
5 comments:
Hey Myra,
Nice! Very polished/finished feeling...
My only niggly nitpicky thing is that the last line makes the poem seem too rounded off, too complete.
To paraphrase Tracy, I wonder how the poem would change if it ended with "and remind me of the way the rain tastes..."
Hi Myra:
I followed this narrator from start to finish. Nice.
I agree with Ariel about the ending as "the way the rain tastes" is wonderful in itself.
I third the suggestion to end on "the way rain tastes". Very clean poem, strong voice.
Thanks Ariel, Trcy and Bren, for the notes. I'm having no luck editing my poems once posted, even if just as drafts, so I'm making changes back here in my own copies.
This is a really nice piece -- I love the contrast between the huge scene (sky and storm and the bigness of the world) with all the details: fry bread, Red Lake, etc. Lovely!
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