On a rainy night in Pittsburgh,
Ray, the mechanic neighbor, is yelling to his wife
that he does not have a wife.
I talk to my mother in Boston on the phone,
trying to not apologize for what I said in my letter.
You come out from the kitchen, a sandwich
for each of us. I am by the door now,
watching the rain storm our street, Ray
drenched in the sopping electricity of his night.
And you put the plate down, your arm around
me so warm, as if we too weren't made of
this weather, this sky opening.
-- Carolyne Whelan
Carolyne Whelan lives in "The Run" in Greenfield. Her work has been published in Poetry Now, Shadyside Review and in the chapbook Are You Free? She works part time as a legal secretary Downtown. Many writers featured in Chapter & Verse are guests of Prosody, produced by Jan Beatty and Ellen Wadey. Prosody airs every Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. on WYEP 91.3 FM.