Dustin Brookshire & Kerry Trautman

     A contoured villanelle using "Little L.A. Villanelle" by Carol Muske-Dukes

Without the threat of flood, I could learn to love the rain.
Last fall, our neighborhood pond overflowed—
rising, receding, and rising in seasonal refrain.

We waded in water six inches deep, a pain-
wicking cold up my shins. Cars sped past with wipers
swiping, reminding— I could learn to love the rain

if I could swish it away at will, like washing a stain.
When I was a kid, I’d stomp in puddles and scream—
voice rising, receding, refracting in wet refrain.

I never thought much of storms, even if they had a name.
Now, I fear drowning, saturation. Last night I dreamed 
of a world covered by flood, leaving me scared of the rain.

I crave parched earth and drought. It sounds inane
to be haunted by such contrasts, to crave the sun's light 
while resigned to rising waterlines’ relentless refrain.

Helene struck Asheville, and the city cried Why me?
Her lying eye churning our cries stronger, faster.
A community decimated by the flood. I now curse rain—
anxiety rising, rising, in sleepless, ceaseless refrain.

Dustin Brookshire (he/him) is the author of four chapbooks and the forthcoming full-length poetry collection For All Of Us Faggots (Iron Oak Editions, 2027). He’s the editor of the 2025 Lammy finalist When I Was Straight: A Tribute to Maureen Seaton (Harbor Editions, 2024). More at dustinbrookshire.com. 

Ohio born and raised, Kerry Trautman (she/her) has authored eight books. Her newest poetry collection Things to Say When You Have Nothing to Say is forthcoming in spring 2026 from Roadside Press. Find links to Kerry’s books and social media at https://linktr.ee/OhioKerry.