Silver rain.
Plants shake like dancing knives
behind a dribbling glass door.
Wind worries on her window
obscene.
And there is shimmering light
white and wet and cold.
Tires ache along glass roads.
Footsteps splash through gutters.
Doors shudder and belt wood.
Leaves toss and wrinkle around
windy houses.
The heart is cold.
Rain vomits in all directions
uncontrollably
The night is a cloak for cold emotion.
A door slams.
A cigarette dies.
Murdered by a boot.
Footsteps again.
Washed by a stale drunken light
he is home.
From nowhere
like a singing dragon.
He enters.
A cold wind
Silver steps
And arrow rain.
