Rain
Penetrates
every layer of
cloth, skin, and soul,
Every breath freshly uneven,
Water seeps down from the bottom of
my loosely cuffed pants; the Perfect song
traces through tiny canals to my thirsty brain.
hairs funnel droplets to my rosy cheeks and nose.
Grass beneath matted with shoe-shaped mud clots
runoff into capillaries of sidestreets Beyond.
my own veins flooded with Renewal.
In swirling November showers,
I am a Spirit cleansed.

11/15/2007