Another Baltimore one – appropriate for the recent weather here:
Pounding rain
Drops from the Harbor into the air
a veiled curtain to all the sounds and thoughts
the puddles
Swirl into oil and grease and trash and blood
the mist reaches cool fingers
into collars of jackets
Umbrellas parade
Down Pratt St
shivering bodies holding wet cardboard
ask for change, better lives
Slick crackly sounds
rush by my window
Joining the slow drips on the leaves
This is the rhythm of Baltimore’s rain.
If a kite can go higher
up the sky
or even off the ground
the wind would make a flyer out of me.
If you could love me strong enough
teach me not to flee
but how to fly
then you could make a lover out of me.
Highs and lows
dips and gos
both the same
both insane
If you will be the flyer
and if I was the kite
I think I’m finally ready
to take that faith-filled flight