Bill Edmondson
Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 114 in 2007.
The clouds drop east to west
Down these same Maui mountains
Under them skirts of rain
Across the fields
A line of dancers
One dances to me
Brushes my face
Drops darken the open pages of my book
In the movie version
When he carried her body to the plane
You were so overcome you clung and cried against me
We were the last to leave the theater
I thank you for every word
I’ve written these two years
