Drop by Drop

by Chris G. Vaillancourt

The sky in its liquid elegance shakes
and moves the bindings of old memories.

They manifest themselves into clouds
that whimper in defiant silence.

I wondered why, in looking upwards,
I could not define myself in
any discernible fashion.

I am as transparent as the rolling
rain that shatters the majesty of
a summer’s day.

I am as loose as the mud that
flows like fire across the
dangling ground.

Images perform like daring soldiers
murdering the passion of the enemy.

And now the words I try to speak
are tumbled like deserted cisterns.

Drop by drop I let my imagination
filter out unpleasant visions.

I am so full of shattered hope
and slapping hands that
cause pain only to me.

And now... yes now... the
clouds fall back and reveal
the bright black universe.

I am floating in the sky.
Useless.