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.
