It Rains

It Rains

Older and somewhat

immune I believe, although

never is one

immune

from pain

It rains always

it rains and downpours

not surprisingly

heaven cries incessantly

while my tears are sporadic

A delicate life

a baby pink tiny life

given and sold

all the animals, all the graves,

the Coliseum

Michelangelo, Rome

it's no different:

here in nowhere

a tiny yard

on the earth, it's sky, a theater

I was going to add something

but there was nothing

to add this time, only

a deep sigh, a long slow

glance at the ground

at a small stand of

rock, hastily

made in spontaneous

thoughts

about the meaning of objects