Glass Rain
It falls in clear and careful threads,
a curtain drawn across the street;
each window blooms with watery beads
that blur the hurried into sweet.
I listen till the city thins—
the world made soft by what begins.
It falls in clear and careful threads,
a curtain drawn across the street;
each window blooms with watery beads
that blur the hurried into sweet.
I listen till the city thins—
the world made soft by what begins.