Clouds swirled noon into evening
Old rain jumped from forever evergreens
Into the open mouths of concrete covers,
Against bricks and also against transparencies invading vulnerable bodies
that lay in the comfort of the last lights of sun, dialing Time on her private number
And writing love notes when the line rings busy.
Satisfied notes float into the wind
And the sky fills with kites that glide until the next rain,
When ideas drip into the earth again.
Photographer: Zoltan Matuska