Rain Filled Streets

Itching cold in the rain
running along with the swollen streams in the street
dull lights on the asphalt gray and yellow

We clasped hands and pushed curry on glass plates
the warmth inside can never reflect the rain

Don’t step off the edge
to the quiet life of domesticity below
falling down through the glass ceiling

Before the window is boarded up
the shadowy figures like a Rockwell
two houses just the same

I saw them walk inside
but I stayed out in the rain