Reviewed on 11/19/2024
★★★★☆
“Rain, First Morning” is an urban reflection on alienation and the inability to reconcile. Klink immerses the poem’s grey atmosphere in rain, dissolving the city’s people, where “the shapes of our bones [become hazy].” She contrasts human struggles with the rain’s stillness — “hushed/ drumming that stays past the grave/ surge of the bus.” The speaker withdraws from the city’s bustling and contemplates in a melancholy mood. Yet, she questions whether she gets to achieve the same state of tranquility, wondering silently, “Is it me who is meant?” Klink suffers from this distance from the idealized world. She mourns “my constant struggle to live on my terms.” Even when the speaker approximates peace, she is overwhelmed by its extremity, like “a lamp in full sunlight.” Her presence sinks so deeply into the turmoil that she loses her identity in resolution.
Future uncertainties also stifle the speaker. In dead quietness, she yearns for “the storm before the trees/ reveal it.” But perhaps this moment does not suggest anxiety, but a space to stay far from the self (“a loose respite from heat and loss”) and reflect in detachment.
The ending defies resolution. Klink “[blurs]/ into the dark smoke of rain.” She does not break away but finds belonging in this mystical vagueness of an undulant life.
Full Poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/159420/rain-first-morning
Caden's Nest 
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