Rainbows in My Head

I couldn't sleep this morning; there were rainbows in my head.

It was hours before the alarm and the pitch black behind my eyes was brighter than the sun. Blues like a bubblegum Popsicle melting over my fingers. Yellows like the striped sweater Grandpa wore when we all sang The Battle Hymn of the Republic at his funeral. Reds like the color of her skin against the color of my truck the day we both called in sick and drove to Galveston with the windows down and the sun on our shoulders.

I went to the window and opened the curtains and it was as quiet as the dreams I wake-up and forget. This little town makes no sound before the sun comes up. The birds hide in their holes and the cars gather frost. Everyone soundless and asleep, waiting uncomfortably for the reverberation of life to wake them. Even the wind seems it has nowhere to go this early in the morning.

Grays like the 3 a.m. sky I was looking into. Grays like the thick, colorless snow on the hills beyond the parking lot. I stood watching the sky in the dark morning and my breath froze against the single pane glass.

I blinked and the rainbow was still bright behind my closed my eyes, and then I thought that maybe I didn't need sound anymore. Maybe the images in my head were enough. Oranges like my new Christmas basketballs. Violets like the fireworks exploding over the lake that first summer home from the desert war. Indigos like the scarves she wrapped around her smile.

A squirrel darted across the sidewalk and then stopped in the middle of the walkway's low light. It sat calmer than I've ever seen a squirrel. No fidgeting, no worrying, no nervous attention span. The world is a different place so early in the morning. I wonder what the sun thinks of us when it's not here to watch. I wonder if it knows we all just fall to sleep and wait for it to come again.

I stood at the window and watched this little town make no sound. But maybe the images were enough. So I leaned in to the cold and closed my eyes. Greens like the smell of the ocean blowing in my face the first time she kissed me.

Rainfield

He lay on his stomach in the middle of a grass field near his home and the rain came down fast in the warm afternoon. No shirt, no shoes, no jacket. Grass flavored rain bouncing into his mouth. Water rushed down the line in the middle of his back and pooled just above his shorts, overflowing down each side of him.

She lay down next to him, face to the sky, fingers flexed gently in his hair. She squinted her eyes open against the sharp, wet drops, imagining gravity in slow motion. Lightning flashed bright through the trees at the edge of the field and she counted one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi before thunder rolled over their bodies.

"Wanna leave?" he said.

She opened her mouth to let in the rain. Nine Mississippi, ten Mississippi, eleven Mississippi, twelve Mississippi, thirteen Mississippi, fourteen Mississippi...

Snow Music

I ran through snow hardened and crystallized from days in the cold. Sticking to my shoe like wet dirt. Hard, powdery snow flicking ahead of each step and landing against itself with quiet chimes that bounced against the music-white hills.

From a Cliff

They were hiking a new path when they came upon a cliff overlooking the sea. They stopped to drink water and take photos. Sun high in the sky. He walked to the edge and looked down and a smile swept over his face. The water was clear and deep.

"It's too high," she said when she saw what he was thinking. He didn't say anything while he studied the cliff.

"Isn't it too high," she said.

"Maybe," he said, but he kept smiling and studying the cliff.

He put his pack down, took his clothes off, and placed his things on the other side of the trail. He toed the cliff edge. This is high, he thought as a soft wind brushed over his rigid body. The sun is my lover. Take me with you.

He jumped from the cliff and hung in the air with arms and legs swinging in slow motion and then in an instant crashed into the sea, sinking deep below the clear water as the air rushed from his lungs. The sun pushed through the water toward him and he looked up and wondered how deep he was.

He floated below the surface for as long as he could and watched the sun move like notes of music. He swam to the surface and between deep breaths he wiped salt water from his eyes. Finally he saw her, standing against the sky, waving to him. He waved back.

She took her clothes off and threw them behind her and without pause she dashed to the edge and jumped.

Now, Now

They were seated one table away from the table where years ago they sat and smelled summer rain through the restaurant's only window and spent all night talking about life as though it were a painting wet from their very own breath. But tonight there was a frost outside and they agreed to an early dinner because of their long drives to work in the morning.

The sun sets too early this time of year, he thought when the couple sitting at the table next to them lowered the restaurant's only window shade against the winter sun.

For five minutes they took turns looking at each other while the other pretended to look away. He looked at her and followed the shape of her cheek to her chin, and then turned his attention to the deep mahogany walls and imagined that just past the ceiling they must have risen into the sky. She saw lines in the corners of his face that she never saw before, and then glanced around at the kitschy light fixtures hanging above each table and wondered if a ceiling had ever been so low.

They hadn't said a word until the waiter finally arrived and they placed their orders.

We'll be okay, he said in his mind, looking her in the eyes.

We'll get through this, he continued to himself. We will bring the sun to its knees. We'll take ancient trees and wrap them around our fingertips. We'll kiss again and swallow the ocean. We'll put mountains in our pocket and carry the wind on our back. We'll fly. We'll dance in poems and paintings and we'll taste music. Yes, we can still tame the world. We will have a baby.

She watched him and for a moment he felt the walls beginning to shrink and the ceiling rising away and he was certain that if he walked over to the restaurant's only window and opened it wide that everyone would see the sun reversing course back into the sky.

She stopped fidgeting with her fork and straightened her shoulders in the slightest way.

"I don't believe you anymore," she said.

Piles of Leaves

The Leaves Fell

His leaves fell until the ground was covered. The wind swung low and blew them away. Green then yellow then brown then dead, and it all tumbled away from him. Tumbled away in the wind and he stood there naked and cold and alone.

His words have meant nothing and that's all that he had to give. His choices have become who he is. He is no one anymore.

The Man On Top Of The Hill

There was a man who stood on the top of a hill and let the wind whip his face red just so he could see the sun rise. He let the light burn his eyes white hour after hour just so he could watch the sun move through the sky. He didn't eat or drink all day just to stand on the hill and watch the sun set into the night. And he didn't sleep all night waiting for the sun to wake once again.

He stood on top of the hill for years wishing he were on the surface of the sun, waiting, hopefully, to finally be close enough to taste it, close enough to hear it breathe. He stood on top of the hill for years and waited and waited and waited.

Perpetual

my


perpetual


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


and


i


feel


it


my


perpetual


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


my


perpetual


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


heart


beat


and


it


only


makes


me


cry


some


days


but


i'm


told


to


keep


breathing.

Rain

It falls and I let it hit me nowadays. It wets my coat so I take my coat off. It wets my face so I reach to the sky to get closer. It wets my shoes so I take my shoes off. It wets my socks so I take my socks off. My feet sink into the mud but it's too cold to feel anything anymore.

The clouds came in this morning when I was asleep and they won't leave until next year. Leave me alone.