For the first time in years
I respond to you—
the rain,
with silence
even as you play little sticks
across my rooftop.
If you were to diminish
your flurry of stems
all that you want me to say
would yet remain unspoken.
The glaze of incoherence
you’ve left
still stirring above me
contains more meaning
than you ever intended—
kisses of togetherness
descending to a level
of unwanted compromise.
A hush of blackberries
rises to a place once loved.
About the Author: Richard King Perkins II
Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, USA with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart, Best of the Net and Best of the Web nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications.