Women Pour with Rain
Rain as a music box,the story of a lost doll with no eyes,
these are the words you remember:
lazy, hazy, chilly-willy weather oh
singing as if it matters,
raindrops getting so big the size of your tongue,
you are shrinking in sunlight,
shrinking as the music dries.
Listen, the music box is crying:
women pour with rain as they stitch their aprons.
Lots and lots of tiny hammers to knock her up,
little bits of magic getting stuck between notes.
Found bits of dreams in the side-seams,
rain stains on the doll's dress,
left out again, lazy, hazy, silly doll.
posted by Cathy @ 2:07 PM
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