Laura McCullough

RAIN LOVES THE SKY

I eat a clementine and kiss
my youngest son. Peaches,
I tell him, what mother
 
couldn't love you? My
tongue can't betray me.
It senses fruit waiting
 
to be bruised, crushed
into salvation. I cut him
small fruit: banana,
 
fig, kiwi, tell him not
to be afraid. Try it; try
everything. Your tongue
 
will guide you. Let it lead
you to countries, trees,
brambles so thick you
 
fear you might not ever
get home. I'll be there,
waiting, my tongue blue
 
and sodden as if I'd been
foraging in a field of ripe
huckleberries, a place
 
you'll find yourself when
you know you've been loved
like the rain loves the sky
 
it falls from. The words
my tongue forms are potent
and firm as the blueberries
 
he bursts in his mouth,
laughing, amazed, grateful
for every possible thing.

Location: outside Atlantic City, NJ Occupation: Faculty member in the English Dept. at Brookdale Community College Email: hellm2@comcast.net Publications: Faultline, Exquisite Corpse, Slant Review, Pierian Springs, Tarpaulin Sky, Whimperbang, Poetry Motel, etc. Awards: NJ State Arts Council fellowship, full Dodge Foundation Scholarship to work at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown Other: MFA from Goddard College

- July 2003 - to protagonist ; from antagonist Nude And You Have Been Fruitful Writing Romances Idiot Spring Introduction to Poetry Rain Loves the Sky Sweet Breath