The Moya View

Tag: rain

  • Rainy Day

    Rainy Day

    Only the rain moves,nailing the houses into their own coffins. In childhood daysthe rain sailed down alleys.merrily sweeping motley papers, leaves,once, a tiny pink shoe—everything, to the sea, a rollicking circus calliope. Now the rain, the iron rain,lets the sky place itstombstones onevery single roof.

  • In the realm of twilight

    In the realm of twilight

    the wind is dying in the umbral night all aroundthe small bridge becomes the canal’s umbrella weaving a shy blue garment for the waters,a silvery gown across the imponderable blue the moon glides free, an argent shadowthe rain dove purls a plaintive lay, drenching the darkening streets with a drowsy kissin these hours of tears

  • Rain

    Rain

    I have known other rainsRain destroyed my world (once) and will end it— with other rain I am a man in rain beyond home The name of this is not mine but the rain’s My world is called rain It’s the distance from home Yet, after each one after removing colors it resettles my world,…

  • Rain

    Rain

    The rain creates its own ballet starting with a lone figure  holding an umbrella in the fog splashing teardrops with her feet . . .

  • Quotidian Life

    Quotidian Life

    A bicycle splashes over a puddle and its aurareflects down the streetlightspraying halos on the umbrellasof the pedestriansthat pass under.Down the blocktwo stop signson opposite streetsboth signal WALK,letting the crisscross of the quotidian begin.This moment it’s a blue umbrella scissoring around a red one.Earlier a chihuahua in a poncho sniffs and wants to nip at…

  • Rainy Weather Laughter

    Rainy Weather Laughter

    The rain chuckles on the rooftop and the sound carry’s down the house.   The oaks in their amber raincoats hiss in the water’s tickle.   Their sinuses suckle the drops to veins then shiver off the excess.   The wild summer streams are beginning their running joke.   The drought retreats with a frown…

  • Rain Dance

    Rain Dance

    The rain creates its own ballet starting with a lone figure on a bridge holding an umbrella in the fog splashing teardrops with his feet, doing jetes over the larger puddles, until the wind inverts his shade, plies turning to pirouettes, approaches cascading to the portal and the head of the street, dancing to a…