I don’t remember walking in the rain:
There are sparks of memory from that time
When showers pounded the streets and water
Plunged through the gutters, but I was always
Behind a window, warm and dry, confused
That I’d arrived at school without a drop
Staining my shopping mall wardrobe, knowing
The fields would become lakes, empty of life,
And the children would have to play inside
Or on blacktop until the earth was full.
But while I walked to school every day
In permanent sunshine, the long walk home
Ended in darkness—in a cold, dry place
Love had abandoned before I was born.