The deluge comes, a downpour so thick I squint to make out
shapes of things through the smear on my windshield, recognizing the larger
pieces, the bend over trees, the drenched beds of flowers, but not always the
hutched over people, gray against the gray backdrop, a rain that I feel deep
inside myself as if I am unable to stop the flow of tears I feel most acutely
on this day, this time of year, as longing for something or someone I once
briefly had, but have no longer, life even love, washing away, leaving a trail
in the west streets over which my car rolls, I am alone, even when I am not,
feeling still the embrace of something I can no longer have, washing away with the
rain.
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