The rain is bouncing up and down in shivering orange puddles
And then dissolving silently inside the settling dark.
My face is pressed against the window as it sheds its sorrows
With trembling fingers touching its goodbye against the glass.
I let my focus go,
And every hanging drop becomes a universe,
A bursting nova, sea of dandelion, myriad of jellyfish,
And as the engines start, those delicately hanging worlds
Devour each other as their jilted course unfolds.
The flooded sky projects its orange tears on my skin and clothes
And every droplet pulses from my aching pores.
– o –
another old one.