Rain

On an island is a mission, behind where cruise ships lay, she makes it her monument, any chance number, for every penny paid, makes her wonder, she needs a clear decision, her mind awash with waves, from this green oasis, why she has to run, by unwashed signs each day, outsiders walk under, betrayed by sons and issue, who only act like knaves, she hurries to confession, there is a lovely sunset, she passes by the wraiths, her face a sweet mirror, at a beachouse says a blessing, for drinkers and the dazed, all those others gone missing, whose luck never plays. departing tourist games, she hears the laughter, sees beach like wraiths, dance beneath sun and madness, belayed by sons and issue, they are not to blame, she skirts around the kissing, make an unlit confession, feels the convent'sweet glaze, a scented loving admission, touches ancient flame. night winds sing forever, fire and distant thunder,