RAIN


After weeks of long heat
I wake to rain
and a cool breeze
through the open
window. I lie here,
listening: that unforced,
muffled encore,

your careless breath
across my chest.
Your first smile has
the gentleness
of rain after
long heat, your fingers
are rain, falling.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


THAT HILL


the sun
sets behind

is like
a man

sleeping
on his side,

who might
in a

million years
or two,

(or three,
or four)

wake up
one day,

get off
the floor,

stretch,
stand tall,

and walk
slowly,

very slowly,
away.


* Nigel Pickard is a regular IS&T contributor. His first collection Making Sense was published by Shoestring (2003) and his first novel One was published by Bookcase (2005).