Sport 40: 2012
After the Rain
A dog drags a quivering life
across the street, a kid carries his god
in a plastic bag inside his jacket,
the crows want to be theologians once again.
The world will change only after the rain.
The river is ploughing towards me,
shouting so loud that I’ll go under.
A storm, they say, is brewing in the books.
We will read them after the rain,
if there is to be any after-the-rain.