Things that Happen in the Rain
1.
The medical professor
has a huge house
with a large bed.
I’m a young student who
sleeps on a pullout sofa.
After sex, I jump on his bed. He scolds me.
Suddenly, our age difference has new meaning.
How about this for adult talk? I’m pregnant.
Mr. Professor has an answer for everything:
It’s not mine. My sperm count is too low.
Naked, I crawl off his bed, get dressed,
and ride my bike home in the rain.
2.
The two babies, twin sisters, lie next to each other
wearing matching pink satin robes and stocking caps.
They were alive hours,
maybe minutes,
maybe not at all.
The parents, my neighbors, dressed their daughters for this photo,
this photo that is in the local newspapers, where the obituary reads:
At least our girls never had to breathe polluted air.
I walk past their house, piles of leaves burning
throughout the neighborhood, and think of the babies lying
next to each other in the hospital bassinet, never knowing the smell of rain.