In a gentle breeze it is raining

Poplar, maple and oak in the yard,

Linden, catalpa by the driveway,

Down the street, feeling its way along

A curbstone, piling memories.

Look back softly, shadow,

See when the sky dropped words

Hurled themselves groundwards

Onto shoulders, heavy with need;

Hatted, gentle people, yearning,

Now

Hooded against the chill, lost in daydreams

Of when you looked back

So softly