RAIN

To pull the rain out of
someone’s back.
To do it in the daylight. On a
park bench. At the movies.
In the middle of Times Square.

To touch the drenched
spine. To kiss the river
in front of every taxi, every
yellow car in the city.
To drain it until you find
gold in them hills.

A new, gentle earth
nestled in the tail bone.
A wild, water love.

By Caitlyn Siehl

Biography:

Caitlyn Siehl is a poet from New Jersey. She is currently in the final semester of her two year graduate program, and is expected to graduate with her Masters in May, 2017. She has published two books of poetry, entitled “What We Buried” and “Crybaby,” and has co-edited two poetry collections entitled Literary Sexts Volume 1 and Literary Sexts Volume II, all through Words Dance Publishing. She enjoys spicy Jalapeno chips and being surrounded by dogs at all times.