It must be raining yesterday
because of a present tense.
And as much sense as that statement lacks,
it must hold some truth
seeing as how my face is wet.
Whether this is weather
or drops of salted sadness,
an ocean that swallows land is as unpredictable
as certain kinds of madness.

A river or a lake or a stream or a creek,
or a shiver or a shake or a scream or a shriek,
they all continue to develop
until the body becomes weak.
Erosion takes its time unless the current
becomes too strong.
Then the body begins to
break away like a brother's brittle bones,
or the composition of a masterpiece
that becomes a forgotten song.

So when I say that I feel the rain,
today or tomorrow or yesterday,
what I mean to say is what I meant to say,
which is that this happens every day.
And if the tears happen to cease
even with closed eyes, I'll know I
have found my mind or peace.
That which was elaborately disguised.

One would mistake it
as an introduction,
but it could only be
an Everyman's
last goodbye.