Crisp

A few things
are more beautiful
than rain
drops under the street
light

but with a roof
on top
not leaking

uncertainty, sometimes
can wrap around you like a lover
leaving warmth behind
and bones rattle

a strange kind of a company

alone,
but not alone
like,
nude in the wilderness
under the stars
breeze blowing
skin hair
standing on edge
and howl of wolves nearby
like,
stabbed by the lover
loving them
still,

there are no simple answers