We walked on through the thunderstorm,
umbrellas flying high above, our feet
soaked in the gutters where the shops
were all reflected, and though
it made us laugh to see the signs all upside down
and in the rain,
we felt for all the beggars who were shuffling
on their carpet bags, pain cascading over them,
those gentlemen, knights of the road, and on the
wings of fast sedans the grey light shone electrically,
and lost in our own silence unaware the world was
changing, churning through the sentences, a wanton act
of yearning
for the summer sun to take us and transport us to
a desert isle
we whiled away the darkening day by playing spot the phonies
and we walked on through the thunderstorm as
if we didn't notice
that the shops had shut but that's
the way it was.