Rain in the Streets

1 min

The intricate sounds of Orozco’s Guitarra and
   the beep, beep, from passing automobiles fill
   the warm air, and rise towards the burdened sky as 
Rain materializes from thick grey nimbus clouds, 
   and falls onto the City; yet, the mood is not somber.
It is Sabbath.

The mid-April air smells of wet dog, and filth,
   the smell of the City’s deep cleanse from morning showers.

The birds perform their cantata
   as Orozco orchestrates their instrumental.
The asphalt sidewalks glisten from the rain, no
   longer holding yesterday's shit.
The dusty jalopies, in the same parking spots
   since 1983, are cleaned by nature's car wash.
The dry, cracked, winter soil brims with water, 
   retaining some for tomorrow’s growth.
A black Family Dollar umbrella is burlier than the rain patter, 
   as its holder hunts for the morning brew at Big Block Deli,
   keeping clear of swooshing tires, kicking up muddy water,
   on drenched streets.
Outside window plants, neglected by winter's love, finally,
   finally, taste the sweet waters from nimbus, too.
The grimy, brick, six-story buildings, which cover blocks and
   blocks of the Bronx, receive their infrequent cleaning,
   now presentable buildings with homes to rent.
And to see this, to feel this, to smell this powerful presence,
   which comes into our lives once and a grey,
   and gives, and gives, the gift of purification, and the
   gift of life, is knowing that the change, the moment of revival,
   the clear blue sky, blue like the sea, and the arms stretching
   towards it, smelling the morning dew, embracing the demure
   beauty of the new day, with cheerful anticipation, is because
The Rain has cleaned more than the streets.


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Image of Alex Grey
Alex Grey · ago
Wonderfully descriptive language - I got a little lost wandering the place with you, but that last line is magnificent.
Image of Bolivar T. Caceres
Bolivar T. Caceres · ago
Thank you, Alex. I find that being lost is not always a problem, as long as you found your way back home.
Image of Keith Simmonds
Keith Simmonds · ago
Great sensorial impact for this captivating poem, Bolivar!
Image of Bolivar T. Caceres
Image of Rhea Rose
Rhea Rose · ago
Brings me to that place.
Image of Bolivar T. Caceres
Bolivar T. Caceres · ago
I hope you had your poncho with you.

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