So many haunted lives.

Holger Droste, photographer

Raindrops like teeth, the enamel of god. 

A horse of lightning. A tractor of thunder. 

The muddied boots of the children, 

Waiting forlornly by the front door. A wet winter, 

Here to move water back to the earth, and back to the ocean. 

You can cry or laugh or find a drum to pound. 

You can catch a bus to Dayton or Tulsa. 

This isn't…