Tuesday, April 8, 2014

When It Rains...

When it rains, the city becomes a tough poem.

Gray grim, nothing beautiful, not the way gray is in the Dutch master's paintings where a white light makes everything glow. 

It's just grim. 

The pregnant woman told me when it started today, she wanted to sue someone.   She's a lawyer so that made sense.

But I don't want to sue.  When it rains, I just get disappointed in the weatherman who said it wouldn't and then I just grimly walk through, ignoring everybody else.  And everybody else just walks grimly through it, ignoring me.

Because when it rains, the city becomes a tough poem.

Related Posts:

....And Dancing In The Rain

Encore: "Let the rain kiss you... Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops..." Langston Hughes
Sunday Memories: "...A Little Rain Must Fall"

Between A River And A Highway

Vanishing New York: Her New York