Talking


The rain is everywhere,
droplets of water streaming from the heavens--
revitalizing the earth, enabling her to grow.

Animals flee to shelter, foreseeing the end of the storm.
People run to buildings, awaiting the end of the storm.
The vegetation stays--in the storm--preparing tomorrow's food.

Bodies march under plastic canvases.
Protecting their clothes, conversing with deaf ears:
the natural world cannot poison this man-made dystopia.

Automobiles speed, spewing flash floods that spray the sable road.
Windshields wipe: swish swish.
All and sundry await the end of the storm in this man-made dystopia.

I want to hear it:
the pitter-patter of earth's aching tears.
I want to feel it:
the kiss of raindrops on my skin.
I want to feel.

But it's too loud.
The people are talking--
Always, always talking.

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