Raining

Drops hesitate 

onto the cement

like someone entering

an unfamiliar house

soon enough the rain

gets comfortable with the surroundings

and sits itself

it even accepts tea and biscuits.

The rain is staying the weekend

a visitor for gardens and street gutters

the birds shake off

the drench, without drying.

A decision is made in the black clouds.

How much weight will we throw?

How heavy and high shall we rise?

A feat of patience until we go indoors

The rain revisits and rests

in the cleft it's left on the beds.

Another sheet another layer

to keep the cold dream in.

It seeps deeper

the longer it sleeps

weeping down, wash a street

watering its own keep.