After the Rain


After the rain

when the air smells like copper
     and the greens in the trees
          seem bright like wet paint.


After the rain

when grass wants to sparkle
     and the birds speak like bullies
          whose bravado has faltered.


After the rain

when the winds sigh, exhausted
     and the puddles lie tranquil
          as mirrors for the clouds.


After the rain

when the asphalt gathers steam
     and the sewers chat like
          housewives gathering to klatch.


After the rain

when the wires string like pearls
     and the sorrows in my heart
          seem dim and washed from view.