when I tell people I ran away from Texas
to move to Washington
the first thing they point out is the rain
like how could I stand it
the way water washes over
everything
almost every day
for months at a time
they ask me like that’s a bad thing
like no one’s ever loved the storm
for all its wild beauty
like no one’s ever found solace in the sound
of raindrops on tree leaves
they imagine I must hate the damp
the way nothing ever really gets dry
they don’t listen
I tell them I’m a rain dancer
who’s spent a decade in a dusty bowl
dying slowly in the endless sun
I need water
to fall from the sky
and remind me to breathe
washing away all the dried on sorrows
of living in the wrong place
for so long
yes
I know
Washington is a grey and drizzly place
that’s exactly why I came
from Texas to Washington [poem]
Larissa Lee 