Drops

Kerry Trautman

He closed the screen door, stepped

into rain that smelled like worms.

I could only think I wanted

those drops to drizzle

from my scalp to eyebrows.

There are these unexpected

lumps in you,

 he said

through the screen.

Like the ridges and pits in

the bottom of hot tubs.

Referring, maybe, to

my need to gulp water--

if it tastes good, very cold,

gulp till I gasp for

my next breath,

letting my blouse get dribbled,

even if it’s silk, which it

never was.

Through the screen I said,

I’m just thirsty.

---

Born and raised in Ohio, USA, Kerry Trautman is a poetry editor for the journal "Red Fez." Her poetry and short fiction have appeared in various anthologies and in journals such as "Midwestern Gothic," "Alimentum," "Free State Review," "The Fourth River," and "Slippery Elm." Her poetry books are "Things That Come in Boxes" (King Craft Press 2012,) "To Have Hoped" (Finishing Line Press 2015,) "Artifacts" (NightBallet Press 2017,) and T"o be Nonchalantly Alive" (Kelsay Books 2020.)

Kerry has a brand new poem in Issue 6 and Issue 06 is available RIGHT NOW.

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