Clarence

Clarence   Elemental as rain he falls. Hands cupped in the desert you wait to catch him– at least the midnight flash, the feel of a woman’s low cry the touch of rain on your skin a moment when he blew you away   Key words: Bruce, Clarence, music, saxophone, born to run

Clarence

 

Elemental as rain

he falls. Hands cupped

in the desert

you wait

to catch him–

at least the midnight

flash, the feel

of a woman’s low cry

the touch of rain

on your skin

a moment

when he blew

you away

 

Key words: Bruce, Clarence, music, saxophone, born to runalg-clarence-clemons-jpg

Author: Janice

A creative. Lifelong Marylander. After many odd jobs of adolescence and college, have always worked as a writer and published essays, op-eds, articles, and poetry in national news media and small presses. Collection of poetry, "Saturday at the Gym", about boxing, aging, and motherhood; collection of artwork and poetry, "What Are Mothers For?" On the verge of an empty nest for the first time in 30 years, my question is: What am I for?

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