Listen, you, who sit in the damp grass as the sun arrives over the shadow of a broken day, The forecast extirpates all the hate in this land grown up too late but still clinging on to the month of may Bird watchers, Bike riders, Bank robbers, Blues singers together make this world vibrate, accentuate the hair of each and every nape after nape, I contemplate how this day will end, which roads to mend, which twig to bend, but I, I light up with the glow that could only come after a rain, all my stains removed and thrown through the windowpane I jump out, fall back and arrive in my final scene Lights crash, crash through this day, beauty between, If you don’t already have this engrained in your brain, *The brightest rainbows come after the rain.