Rain
hissing rubber floats along the dark
punctuating silence with reminders
that alone is not completely right.
the windows run, smearing on themselves
a kind of diaphanous wet glow,
as if fresh from hugging a vibrant love
deep down into the sheets.
apart from snaking tires, there is no sign of life
than their steel beetles’ eyes
shining dim into the grey soaked morning.
and rain, bringing more,
however masked by the curtaining fall
© 2002 Peter Geoffrey Hynes
