But When the Rain

BUT WHEN THE RAIN But when the rain On the shimmering street of wet dirt Dissolves today into yesterday, The childhood inside bursts out Unhappy and restricted - So glad that it’s past; But when the rain Rattles at the glass, shaking The loose panes and oozing Through the crumbled putty, Years of ten or twelve become today - And now I sigh with relief; But when the rain Soaks down my collar, The shivering sheet of the wet shirt Sticks uncomfortably around my neck - As if to choke the now Inside the cold then; But when the rain . . .