Every day it rains before I wake.

by Mitchell Evenson

The sky slips from itself
and cradles clean a memory
of swell and flood—bathes 
the pavement, now 
grey enough 
to empathize with 

—the gutters echoing
the hush and hurry:
song of my past
that surges beyond
the current.

Now sunshined, blue-skied
days are babied into
old age, baptized
by nocturnal rains
(always before
I wake);

and every morning I trample
the dampened ground
to remind myself
what cannot be

Mitchell Evenson is a Theatre Major and English Minor at the University of San Diego. His writing focuses on memory, relationships, and identity. He will be graduating this Spring and hopes to pursue a career in the arts.

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