I walk freely through
the soft rain, elderly and
vulnerable to
coronavirus.
How that rolls off the tongue! I
speak to no one, touch
no one. I listen
to the rain in the trees and
in gutters falling
from roofs and roadsides,
echo the flow of deepest
being, my own in-
cluded. Death walks with
me. As long as we can walk
in the rain, we’re fine.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Tom D'Evelyn
Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
View all posts by Tom D'Evelyn