Drops hesitate
onto the cement
like someone entering
an unfamiliar house
soon enough the rain
gets comfortable with the surroundings
and sits itself
it even accepts tea and biscuits.
The rain is staying the weekend
a visitor for gardens and street gutters
the birds shake off
the drench, without drying.
A decision is made in the black clouds.
How much weight will we throw?
How heavy and high shall we rise?
A feat of patience until we go indoors
The rain revisits and rests
in the cleft it’s left on the beds.
Another sheet another layer
to keep the cold dream in.
It seeps deeper
the longer it sleeps
weeping down, wash a street
watering its own keep.
Ariel Riveros Pavez 
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