• Sam Baker

Dear Rain


This trip is about returning stuff

Some feathers red

Earrings only one actually

An ear ring

Left in a fold of an unmade top sheet

And A small White rock shaped like a heart

the size of a padlock

I was going to call

While returning the stuff

Driving Past the Jim Walters homes

The wind turbines

The new electric lines gangly against the sky

Not aesthetic

But I love electric

And I didn’t call

And somebody said

To sing my self electric

And I am not sure what that means

But so be it

Electric singing myself it is


yellow and black landscape

acrylic on paper