Greedy Rain

The rain was not always beautiful,

It was a procession of waterdrops and nothing else.

It fed on your paper boats

And whispered its secrets to the winds,

Licked your cheeks when you walked back

Home from places that wouldn't take you in,

Until the taste of your loneliness salted the cheer of your childhood screams

Deposited in broken skies.

The water is greedy to learn your fears

To linger on your windowpane when the trees cast phantom murders on the bedroom glass

In which you left music to mix with humidity

Last Friday evening; you were too busy to notice

When the showers left your searing escapes

Because it had to rush to potholes in your street,

Come morning you would not find the stone that marked the route to her home

Your anguish would be photographed by sly mirrors

Because the tissue-paper laughter tears when retrieved,

The heads of your sorrows look comical

Perched on spears crashing onto dry earth,

The army plans to leave no survivors,

It plans to scorch every temple in your memory

Cut the throats of the babes

Force traders to see the rubble and find opportunities to reinvent

A civilization in you,

And the descendants will call their history beautiful.