safe passage

8am i walk out into
something between drizzle and rain
i lock the door behind me and run anyway
michael says i’m brave
asks if i need an umbrella
you gotta do what you gotta do i say
and remind him of my previous rainforest (turned city) dwelling status
switching off community radio
while couch-curled with dinner
(veggie green curry with rice noodles and tofu)
to listen to the rainsounds
slipping in at window/door edges
(the first steady rain since arriving
a month and a half ago)
sweetgrass lit and releasing drifts of smoke
at the modest altar
how the faces in the photos change
as i wish them safe passages
two-cup pyrex pitcher
fogging indoors with its fresh-fetched
night-cooled contents (day of the dead taos desert rain)
for pouring into tiny vials
and giving away
the clink of glass against glass
thick against thin