OverTheRainbow

Time seems to move slower when it rains 

Cars hesitate before they turn 

Bird wings lag as raindrops batter their feathers 

The world seems small and heavy 

I don't want the cold hallways,

their chill seeping underneath 

my thin regulation gown and settling in my bones.

I don't want the nurses,

with their tight, sympathetic smiles

I remember she smelled like cheap canned beer and Ajax dish soap;
Like that industrial elevator onto McClure 4, with the rainbow carpet walls sticking to its skeleton.

Child, your future is best left unspoiled, so I may be too vague, or not vague enough. Don’t be afraid of  the contents within this letter . . .

A long, slim ball of English cream

curls up against the velvety crimson stairs,

like an entity of white against maroon.

His ears perk up as I amble closer,

     The dogwood blooms later 
this year and marks the tardy rebirth 
of the earth, our home, beautifying 
after a dreadful winter purge.