rain lies layered on the surface of the road like snow.
but unlike snow, which sleeps until it vanishes,
rain lies ready to surprise us by jumping.
if we are open, we feel it, coating our clothes
and finding our bones with cold.
if we are closed, we stare at it through a pane wondering
and then in flight through open air
feel it anyways.
the grass fills with rain like a riverbank, swollen but holding its shape
so it is with us.
the rain alone touches every being in the city
to its core.