Rain

I see the empty street, naked as a woman’s shoulder
In the rain.

The hitchhiker, grimed with beard, aims
His thumb at a dry bed & three squares,
Nothing more.

We were talking about something called Negative
Capability. You kept saying Rilke,
and I kept thinking Rain.

The river’s back is pocked by rain,
Churned by a duck,
Smoothed by an orange-red leaf.

There’s no room for guilt out here,
But there’s plenty of room for rain.

The clouds bisect the radio tower,
Still the message comes through clear enough:
“Rain today & rain tomorrow.”

You were drinking your fourth cup of coffee
& telling me about deathless art.
I just wanted to talk about the weather.

“There’s a cold rain coming tonight.
Nothing worse than a cold rain.
Tears the leaves from the trees
And sends the pretty girls
Inside to get their coats.”

The rain begins
Its argument
With the sky
And ends with mirrors
In every gutter.

One drop
Fallen in a puddle
Is a quote within a quote within a quote within a quote within a quote….

A torrent falls from the sky! Took the trash out this morning and the rain was boiling down. I hope everyone who reads this stays dry.

J.G.