• Wistfulness on a Rainy Day
    ---
    It's raining this morning, sharp and
    green. Under the waning light
    the world wraps itself in
    shades of grey. From under
    the wood bridge comes the
    thunder of three rivers' waters
    clashing against each other; soon
    they came to a place where they
    make peace, and go together churning,
    churning, into the sea. Fleshy
    people huddle forlornly under
    the sheds and alcoves, doves with
    wet ruffled feathers. Without
    a sound, they are swallowed up
    in the mist. The cloud-blanket
    parts with a grumble; the rain
    falls out of bed with a
    sound like the pattering of
    little feet, everywhere.
    I draw a heart in the
    window frost, with wings;
    the rain plays pretend, drumming
    the sound of wingbeats on the glass.
    I snuggle back into the warm
    belly of the car, with its
    soft purrs of comfort, and
    imagine my heart flying away
    to meet the drummer in the sky.