March 30, 2009
Rain plops down.
Giant, drenched drops
Soak the searing asphalt.
As tires smear through puddles,
Who has time
To wonder where those oily streets stretch?
Because the iridescent streams have no choice;
They just flow forward.
With all the innocence in the world,
The rain never seems to stop.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback