these are the days
with no beginning and no end
one collapses into the next
rainshadows in dark puddles

einstein the terrier
doesn't move, just puddles and puddles
until he's done
and spins on his axis 
for home 

rain is the sound
of constellations
of tiny guitars
behind eyelids
thrumming

proof is a hard thing
to prove

proof is mysterious
ubiquitous 
as water
 
everything
is permeable
we are proof 

yet today
mysteriously
i am only wet
on the outside