Rain

To the rain, I listened
Quietly as each brittle string showered down, 
Washing away the sinned, 
Diluting the painting
And drowning my heart to the bottom of the abyss. 
The murky water slithered
Through the grey street the grey sky
And the grey light—
People's grey faces.

The city was a depressing garden
Growing all sorts of emotions. 
Screaming as the blazing sun placed senses in our boiling blood. 
I would never forget the homeless minds. 
Another drop of rain fell—
Or was it a teardrop? 
As if her life depended on a blink
And the black long eyelashes
Shivered for the chill.

Dale Chou
1999-03-29