No One Heard Him Play the Rain

Living in a box down the alley way Apart from the hustle of the work day When a rain storm would begin His face would light up with a grin For only he could hear the beat With in the rain fast and neat Out in the rain he made his band With his drumsticks in weathered hands Beating out his own refrain He turned his talent loose, unchained Upon the trash bins where he stands With a collection of metal cans He’d fill the cans to change the sound and play in the rain as if spellbound They watched from windows high right and left Sealed in their buildings tight and deaf Their sympathy for the “crazy” man they did feign No one heard him play the rain "Tanding The Sprouts" contest Placement: 4th place