of two glasses upon my window sill;
the rain water pound the glass
and streak down below the stem;
the cup remains empty
but the smell is so full;
when the water hits the wooden frame.
the oak becomes darker than the wine;
the spatter of raindrops on the side
of the glass makes the outside full;
the dried spot at the bottom
is a wound against the grey sky;
each rain drop cauterize the cut
with a deep, spattering sear.