Slickness seeps in beneath us
Reaching deeper into soil and soul
Quenching.
Drowning.

Dimmed street lamps languish on a next corner
The future has no patience for brighter days

Man and beast shake off the yoke of gray
Mist inhaled and released in clouded plumes

Depthless pools are trusted with leather
Hurried and hassled another block crossed
Wading.
Sinking.

Guttural music plucked and pinged for passerby
Dimpled pockmarks disrupt a glossed surface

Science reacting on bumbershoots
Drops of chemistry dug into shoulders

Baptised beings comprised of water
Ill at ease with our very nature
Living.
Lurking.

Humid strands bend and reach out of control
Chaos under canopy cannot be reigned in

Pruned tactile aggravation hinderd response
Nature drenched disables fingerprint function

Resolute deluge and dampened spirits
Communication and traffic delayed Stuck. Spinning.

Mists of promise or peril hangs low over fruit
Satiated root structures rejoice and bloat

Concrete washed in a semblance of clean
Manifest impact hidden by industry

Sewers slosh and swell underfoot
Something going somewhere
Spilling.
Flooding.

By torrent and trickle a death and rebirth
Silvered knives determinedly drive in

Connected by streams of reverent vapor
Together to flourish we forge upstream

Musical rainfall purifies and pollutes
Engorged on vibration we sway Moved. Orchestrated.

Silenced within the din of our mind
Playing lead in a solo surrounded

Giving and taking one drop of our parts
As nothing goes nowhere outside us

Holly Brians Ragusa embraces words, fellow sentient humans, art, family and food. Writing for arts and educational nonprofits and local endeavors, she has published Op-Eds in The Cincinnati Enquirer, poetry and blogs for non profit organizations and recently completed her memoir/true-crime hybrid. Born, released and restored to Cincinnati Ohio.