Ease

The rain captures the best of us
Old souls tired and dry and strung out for days
In October, soon November,
Your laugh a chant to pour the heavens

The solid Earth gives in to our step, the felt touch of dirt
Leaves a path of wet shadows that linger like smiles
That end too soon

The child still longs to play in the mud
Of our words
Yet class breeds contempt for disfavor
That melts away like mascara on your eyes

Black tears as white as falling rain.