A Memory of Water by Michael L. Newell

Rain rips through the night

in savage gusts, tattoos

the window which sighs, punch drunk,

a fighter about to topple.

I roll over in bed, deep

contentment, snug, dry,

remembering a hundred other times

I have sprawled like this, listening

to drumming on roof and window.

The shadow filling the room

is bigger than night or memory

and I slide into it, a familiar robe--

warm, worn, comforting.

There is a history here, yours and mine,

a chronicle of cells growing more complex,

moving toward dry land but never

forgetting, always coming back to the shore to dangle

a foot, a toe, a sleepy lolling around

the edge of water--

like tonight as I leave

a window half-opened

and turn my face to the fine spray.

Michael L. Newell is a retired English/Theatre teacher.  His most recent book is Meditation of an Old Man Standing on a Bridge (Bellowing Ark Press, 2018).