Yesterday it rained and never ceased, but oh!

the infant leaves of maple trees gleamed

when viewed through raindrops sliding down the seam

of a glass window and I’d like to say I love the rain, follow

sodden clouds to dance in puddles and let my features blow 

away with whipping winds but this storm is not a muted dream,

whispers in the air bite and how would I decide between

coats when raindrops hit bare skin as cold as melted snow?

But know I can suffocate under brick and tile,

I am growing smaller. How can I breathe

air that has not been sweetened by wind and cherry blossoms?

On cracking sidewalks, empty roads, I can be free awhile,

shivering under a trembling sky, sun sheathed,

but free in the solitude of a world now gruesome.