The gutters quit their coughing The tires combed the avenue By noon the glass had dried enough To give the buildings back their view I read the quiet as an answer Like calm could settle what I knew I said the week had bent our voices Put borrowed edges in each phrase The forecast took the blame so neatly The late shifts and the sleepless pace I named the wind behind each sentence Then blurred the mark my speaking made The sky cleared The story didn't Blue above the soaked cement No rain left to blur the crossings No wind left to speak intent What passed through us bent us differently What I did is still what I did The sky cleared The story didn't Your message stopped before the weather The chairs had shifted when I came One glance checked another face Before a greeting crossed my way A joke we used to let pass cleanly Hit hard once all the engines hushed I saw whose answers waited longest I watched the sidewalk groups reshuffle I cannot tell what each one carried Or name each change as mine to own But I can name the words I sharpened And where I left someone alone The air did not invent my actions It bent the path I took them on The sky cleared The story didn't It surfaced in the shifted seats In greetings cut before they landed The weather changed; the mark held fast AM I LOOKING FOR THE DAMAGE OR A CLEANER WAY TO EXPLAIN? If I use the calm to clear myself I make an alibi of rain The sky cleared The story didn't Dry pavement, heelprints crossing I won't call the weather innocent I won't call it my defense What passed through us bent us differently What I did is still what I did I can carry what belongs to me Without claiming all of it I don't know every angle I don't know what passed through I know the air was changing I know I changed it too No answer in the clearing No shelter in the rain I will keep looking, knowing I may not find a name For everything that shaped us Or every mark we made
