Written by Bluey, 1999

Clouds scooting across The sky Reflecting the slick pavement below The cars Huddled in droves, whirling past like The wind Screaming around corners of The buildings Standing tall and glistening with water, bright as The streetlights Beaming fiercely downwards, illuminating The rain Pelting into dewy puddles . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Neon signs Blazing into the velvety darkness much like The sun Hidden, crouching, on the other side of the world, Waiting for the storm to pass In the trees, are the birds, silently anticipating the morning, which seems as far away as The distant thunder Hurtling itself towards the unsuspecting People Hunched into the torrents, shielded by umbrellas clustered on the sidewalks as flowers in Beds Populated with trembling children curled up in Little balls Of newspaper blowing down the street and growing Soggy Plants droop under the weight of the rain, channeling down in Riverlets Blur my features as they tumble from my chin . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Drop . . . Water Dripping Has A beat. Wind Whistles In tempo. The metronome Of My heart Quickens At This drumming. Even the tossing lightning Succumbs to the rhythm. The steady music of the storm Pulses in my veins Curls through my hair Echoes in my ears Whispers through my soul Even after The storm Is gone . . .

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