Soaked – a poem by Baskin Cooper

Soaked

caught without an umbrella
the sky opening above me
each drop a cold hand
pressed to my skin

at first I hurry
shoulders tight
thinking of dry rooms
clothes drenched against skin

then I stop
let it fall over me
soak the seams
weigh my hair

what blessing is this
to be washed without asking
claimed again
by the open sky

I wonder
what else have I turned from
thinking it hardship
when it was gift
 

Baskin Cooper is a poet, visual artist, and multidisciplinary creator based in Chatham County, North Carolina. His work spans poetry, songwriting, sculpture, screenwriting, and voice acting, weaving together visual, narrative, and musical elements. He holds a PhD in psychology and previously lived in Cork, Ireland, experiences that shape his explorations of folklore, lyricism, and personal history. His poems have appeared in Rattle, The Avocet, Ink & Oak, Smols Poetry Journal, Verse-Virtual, and ONE ART, with new work forthcoming in The Khaotic Good, The Woodside Review, and others. His debut collection, The Space Between Branches, is seeking publication.