is a sign of autumn, the smell of raw water in the nostrils of all people splashing, hurrying, covering themselves improperly in umbrellas and raincoats.
rain reminds. of thick morning fogs skewered by sunshine, the fragrant sod, freshly cut open, and potatoes, pale and moist, just discovered, ripe to be picked.
rain sloshes up thoughts, of fish and forgetting, full moons and mistakes made by too much editing, geese in skeins stuck under clouds on their way to a Nile or another. being a tree would solve it all.
and so i walk.