getting home

 
a big mad black boot
just about to break,
the sky was.
and we pulled up
from the Quarter -
car scooted to a still
in the driveway.
Just then
woke the moon
and the moon moved a toe

opened the boot.
over us
a cloudy day's
hours of trudging around
loosing its sole
and drinking, drinking
now a runny Saturday
sloshing out
pounding the tin awning,
whipping the graves
and mixing the streetlight
with their slimy gray.

dashed up your steps,
my cheek to your shoulder,
just the rain there
streaking and hanging
in my tuft of hair.
You kiss it
like you're thirsty.