Water Comes a Stain

Water Comes a Stain

I hear it before I see it, lurking,

where I imagine a corner; the sky

deep and dark with all that promises

to come heavily upon us.

It walks lightly over the yard, toward the blue.

Leaves behind the bright--

a wash of daylight backlit by fire

heat and thought and lightning--

clean.

Then, here, spun thoughts gleam,

like reality

or like a paradise of Saturdays

where triumph is clear

and tightly worn as spandex

in a stainless sky.