Homegrown POEMS

Thursday

Rain falls

Slate roofs make music

Pebble dashed exteriors become stained

Pools of muddiness congregate in the gutters.

Splashing tires mark journeys up and down the roads

All shade of grey as far as the eye can see

No lightening or thunder- not yet

The urban has its own din

Velcro tarmac mixes with screeching breaks,

Suitcase wheels drag their weight

Teenage voices of varying pitches, bragging about riches and bitches,

A slapping of shoes and sloppy puddles

Metal on metal foreplay as feet, follow hands follow doors being open and slammed

Cars doors and engine roars

Bicycle wheels' chase pavement slabs, rocking them back and forth

Hydraulic buses spit gas as they lean down to pick up wet pedestrians

Conversations drowned by the sound of a helicopter and of planes travelling in search of better weather

Scratches and sighs from the four-legged, looking for any excuse to bark

The soil soaks up the rain, green leaves greedily hold out their hands

Smells of pollution are washed away

Earthiness takes over for a time

Enriching the nostrils

Covering up the smell of stagnation and piss but not the weed

Wet patches catch in the late afternoon light fading into the depths of domesticity

Hallways are scrubbed by mean mop heads

Wet clothes abandoned in corners

Small towels attack wet hair, umbrellas go back to being unimportant

It's a day for warm food and TV comforts

Another day of the week masked by routine

Just another rainy Thursday in this world of mine.