rain?

rain?

by N3ko

blue emptiness
framing telephone poles
between the roofs
of the platforms
through the railings
of the walkway
changes. Light footsteps fill
the sky with distant echoes.



the lifts still go up
and down: this city's
arteries - the roads, the rails
don't stop
for the grayness, sprawling
purring in the sky

where pedestrian thoughts float
then sink, ponderous, laden,
waves bearing down
close over her head
(must be hard, living
in the basement with all those thoughts
of people above you
down on your head every day).

the rain starts
falling, drop by drop.
it creeps, it seems,
catching us unawares
with the flash of its eyes
and arch-backed roar, spreading its claws
to scatter us in one fluid pounce:

it sets the whole forest aflame, white hot
as iron, molten sparks fly and fall, each drop
chiming from deep within its soul, the call
to disappear, disperse:
the basso continuo moving us,
conjuring up partings and meetings.

tension:
the rubato of wind and clouds
pregnant with intent, frenzied
release:

finally the faraway mountains
are visible once more through the clear
sky from this vantage point
and the people come out
again, scurrying:
rippling, reflected on the asphalt
under the amber-tinged evening.
are you there among them?

© N3ko 2009

Listen to this poem:

N3ko is born and bred Ipohite, rarely logically coherent, terminally sceptical, usually found reading something, often found in a state of hunger or starvation.