The next poem is called "Autumn Shower on the Santa Catalinas."
I shouldn't really talk about the form of this,
but most of you who live in the desert
have seen the way rain looks from a distance,
like a sort of vertical column of blackness,
or black cloud falling.
"Autumn Shower in the Santa Catalinas."
"A man in black is talking to the mountain.
Rain taking it all down, short hand on my windshield.
The mountain folds her bat wings and says nothing.
Tears with their intolerable visions, distorting the world.
They run their soft feet down my face.
Silence opens the blue ear and the branches of winter.
The peacock trembles, then heaven."