HappyRaincloud

Before the last bit of darkness slinks behind the edge of the earth, before the night birds go to sleep and the morning birds start to sing, before the sun creeps over the mountains to begin baking the frozen soil, before the newspaper boy flings his parcel against our garage door, before the fishermen have brought home their pungent treasure, before the street lights exhaust themselves and fade into death, before a single human sound drowns out the audible silence of Earth’s living breath, I hang between two worlds, where I slide through thick and murky dreams on the way to waking life, where I discuss Nietzsche with Jesus and Hurston w