Hot rain paints the city brown.
In that moment,
Gathers up the dust,
Knocks the flies out of the air,
Hides the bees somewhere.
Little corners dark in the drains fill up with memories and dreams,
So thick they’re black.
Leaves droplets on my skin,
They sit contently there,
Then crawl down me,
As if with will and tiny hands,
With somewhere to be,
But in no hurry to be there.
I am awake,
Caught out in the rain awake.
Clouds and mist and steam,
And last sunlight fills the air.
And I am there.
Caught Out in the Rain
Hole In The Hedgerow 
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