the heavens its mind not made
could not but cry
after a scuttle of tear drops
from forebearing clouded eyes
a shower of pebbled rain
tip-topped
off the rooftop glide
at my window side
to drizzle down the asphalt road
a scurry from tempest tries
totters
as my fx ride headed
to race against
the heavens wail
tempered laments clean
dregs
off
lives
roads
as i
sped
away
crac (8-25-05; 12-03-05)
