Standing under the cloth umbrella
Rain critters hopping
Around me
I look down
Into the rivers
Made by light
Seeing the wells
Of light reaching below the street
To infinity
.
Above it all
The wooden homes
Darkened by
Morning
A sun of dark grey mist
Is all
.
In some
The little lights
They beckon warmth
Acceptance
A place
To rest my head
And go back
To that dry warm sleep
.
But the rain
Is padding
Onto
My umbrella
Hitting
A chiming clock
With dark trees
Reflected
In a shining mirror
.
I sink
Back into my well
Never to have my world
Seen again
Until
The next rain
Where heralded
By the rain critters
Rising through
A clear pool of water
Into the usually
Unforgiving
Mirror less walls
Of ours