pools of colour

 

these rainy streets feel like Christmas

when streets are dressed in light

like whores on their days off

waiting for a new date:

all flash

no fantasy.

 

these night bus rides make me sad:

the farther I get from you

the colder it gets

but I can’t see the street for rain on the windshield

and the driver cares less than I do

to see the mess the rain makes of the road

or anything else around us

while the world melts

into pools of coloured light.

 

(c) r.l. elke