for Geraldine


To err on the side of magnificence,

a moral curiosity that knows no bounds –

no time, no death – steady as a wreck.

A poem of the rain makes no fools of

ourselves as rill, rivulet, burn and beck

run us down to our blasted medicine



How you activate the elements

depends on your position in the cycle –

no death, no time, no river touched

by rain that still falls sheer drop by drop on

the rooves, roads, cars and plants, rears up

over nautical dawn. I must have your

plenitude, all that I’ve learned from you –

no time, no death in our contested civic twilight.



With much love


October 2022



[Scott Thurston is .]

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