…into a poem, to soften its fabric,
let its colors run freely
this way and that, like a drift
of clouds unpacking
after a storm.

Insert rain into a story, to melt
the sharp edges, gentle the shapes,
let in ambiguity, and make
some room for what
might happen next.

The way, after a big Spring storm,
the creek takes on a deeper tone
the snow-melt waters
foaming ice-green
over the boulders.

And the willows stand soaking
up to their knees. And a kingfisher
comes to feast on the trout.
Now: insert the blue flash
of his dive.