I looked up at the sky roofed by a black gloom that trickled out glistening foils. In a procession, the drops hugged the electric wire, gliding hesitantly, clinging desperately before falling down. Rain plainly fortified my being, the rumble sinking the dissonance of a muted barrenness. Delights blossomed like flowers flying like birds through the apertures of my mind’s barricades. Like a cocktail the distant whine of an aircraft (carrying many dreams) merged with the murmur of water spattering on the tin roof of the shed, giving me the needed exhilaration that expelled all inhibitions. Collected water in the roof kept tumbling in a fall to the plastic can now overflowing with cool wrinkles.
The sharp odor of an old paint fine-tuned my senses to a strange familiarity, coloring an indolent blue to my awareness. A lone crow sat hiding in the grove trapped by the torrential pour, a dull futility reflecting in its eyes. Images of the inhabitants of a distant nest insensitively flashed in its reconciled manner.
The rain stopped but the ether acquired a resolute blackness, at once obstinate and prepared for the next battle.
The crow flew away. I felt cheerless; a breeze chafed past a puddle in the country road, goose pimples becoming miniature waves hitting the small shores. I heard cries of small children..
Old news papers that reported droughts changed to boats sunk and stuck in the mud, little grass in the banks danced in the gentle wind quivering in the sides, tiny feet trampling upon..
I saw drenched sparrows perched on wet scarecrows in the damp soil fluttering in mock glean of hollow seeds,now flying away to become dreams waiting on the dusty windowsill of my stuffy room in the attic;cluttered and smelly but absurdly secure from the dead chameleon’s curse (I remember another rainy day as a child) still lingering as sorrow, sleeping on my burrowed eyebrows...