When the rain pours in torrents,
And thunder chases lightning through the trees,
When running feet pound the rain-slick road,
And the frightened bark of the fox tears the night,
When wet gravel squeals and squeaks beneath heavy tread,
And boots clump through muddy pools,
When doors slam, and children cry into damp pillows,
I remember your face, moon-pale,
Bland as a salt pan,
And loveless as the chill mists of autumn.
I remember the thin black line of a mouth that never spoke,
Tight closed, a crack in a mud-parched riverbed.
I remember dark eyes, slipping and sliding,
That couldn’t see to tell the truth,
The tangling words and lies and flying hands.
I remember the weeping and wailing and the sharpening of teeth,
The night you went away.