Soaked Poem by Greg Schmid

Dripping, dribbling, dropping
Falling down and striking me
Streams of liquid touch my face
Pooling, running across my hair, over my ears
Down to shine on my neck
Soaking into my clothes
Covering my body with it's sheen
I bathe, enjoying the deluge
Pouring over me
Flooding my eyes, getting in my nostrils
Breaking off my chin
Breaking free of my fingers
In almost tangible drops
It seeps into every part
Every nook, cranny, hollow and wrinkle
In my body and in the land
Touching the dry night
With the refreshing light
of a full clear Moon

(29/09/1993)