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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 . . .
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