I love
the tiny torpedoes
hurled to explosion
silent among grassroots
and the switch-back snorkeling
of worms

and how
paths like gutters slink
rippled daylight
the immaculate shimmer
of dun silk.

Among grass-tongues’
infinite lapping
park benches recede -
anchored flotsam
like brackets
for the eye

and best of all,
arpeggio nights:
squall’s winsome breath
across cotton-warm 
cheeks and ears
with almost symphonies

10 thoughts on “Rain

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