Cleansing


The street’s wet.
It’s raining pretty hard.
Gutter’s still dirty.
Take a storm to wash it off.
It’s morning.
I’ve emerged from behind my door.
I’m watching the pavement.
Splashing, water airborne.

I suppose it’s miserable.
This weather won’t appeal to most.
They run to bus stops,
Umbrella’s up, and all.
But me, I like it.
Suits this concrete world.
Washes it clean.
Bathes the urban earth.

1978, August

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s