I saw the child.
I saw her tilt
her face
to the sky.
The rains are
clearing
the streets
cigarette butts
spiral into
gutters
trees drink
ankle-deep
soft earth
turns to
rivers
and change
the face
of the world.
The hundred year
old woman’s tears
flood down
her face
into
heaving
seas.
The child’s face
in bliss.
She takes the rain
in every pore.
The rain is love.
The rain is love.