And Darling Is What I Wanted To Say

I dreamed about the raining man again last night.
He was looking at me as he always does,
and he was saying:

When winter tells a heavy tale,
when the white crows curse the frosts and snows,
and the ghost of every untold truth remains
silent as the naked birch trees and brown grass
behind your father's barn,
when you miss your lover
every time she's in the room with you --
then give me ale and whiskey to melt my icy heart.

I will bring spring rain, he said.
I will bring the moon and her sister stars
down to the water, and the fish will feed.

The fish will feed on all the dreams
you have discarded.