Soup, beards,
trolleys, and rain.
Wet benches, words,
cackles, some pain.
Crusts, crumbs,
birds, and rain.
Stares, glares,
fixations, disdain.
Flaps, flutters,
birdshit, and rain.
Puddles, splosh,
gurgles, a drain.
Kindness, sadness,
feeding, and rain.
Begging, swooping,
commonality attained.
Gratitude, satiety,
repletion, and rain.
Bowls, spoons,
a soup is insane.
Bags, carts,
trees, and rain.
Grey, sky,
looms the crane.
Rolled, fags,
tobacco, and rain.
Smoke, breath,
enlighten a brain.
Ponder, pause,
pack, and rain.
Walk, push,
I’m back once again.
No Tall Stories 
February 10th, 2013 at 8:40 pm
A point-punching rhythmic staccato of humanity with very revealing imagery. I enjoyed this piece – well done.
February 10th, 2013 at 9:30 pm
Thanks Mike. See you around..
February 11th, 2013 at 11:04 am
The rain has permeated your thinking so that you write to its rhythm. Well done!
February 13th, 2013 at 9:29 am
Thanks Lea!