Rain

Rain, slowly falling, slowly falling,
Onto the grass, as the clouds cover,
Cover the sun from its morning glory,
The wind that rustle's, rustle's leaves,
As they are buried against fences,
Fences that barricade the land.
Flowers, blooming beautifully, blooming beautifully,
In unmade beds of chips, weeds, and garbage.
Drowning in the rain that mists the air,
Making the land, masking the air,
Making itself from our nose.