Rain As angry clouds clash, They dirty the sky. And as they are, Birds can no longer be seen, Outlined by their sunny design. The animals without wings, Such as dogs and cats; Of some sorts lizards; A lonely rat, They scream and leap... Gather frantically in the streets, But are muted by darkness; A fierce and gradual bellow. Parks and avenues are quiet, Clean and still, void of life, Waiting patiently in reflection, As if to be put down; Sentenced irreversably by the heavens, To a long a miserable cleansing. If I had been there, I might have noticed the air: A nostalgic scent, and A slightly chilled breeze. I could have perhaps seen mothers, Hurried, but all the while meticulously Gathering the morning's laundry... Still damp, though left without time. All around, for a moment, all ends. One breath, and rain is upon me.