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
