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King and Bay July
As the sky begins to darken
over the skyscrapers and
the distinct wind gusts
signalling the world
as if to announce
the coming
of the
water
Silence
The
First
Drop
Lands
on my shirt
and on the cars
Cold globules of wet
water dot the dry cracker
sidewalk, like a leopard’s spots
as the rain falls, louder and louder and the
grumble of the thunder and the grumble of the rain
incurs its wrath onto the people in suits running who did not heed
the warning of the rain, it comes crashing down each droplet on the ground
crashing down hitting the surface as if to imitate hot oil on a pan, bouncing
and snapping and popping with the loud repetitive PIT PIT PIT PIT PIT PIT
as the winds grow stronger, the trees groan and moan and sway their
branches like pom-poms, hissing in the wind, groaning in the rain as
the water begins to flow along the kerb, an urban lake of sorts,
thickens and widens; inches of muddy waters drain into the
sewers on the intersection, but the hiss of the pitter-patter
begins to falter, as if running out of air to breathe
As the clouds slide east and the blue
appears out of the blue, cracks in
the cottony grey sky, as the
droplets shrink, and the
torrent becomes a
sprinkle of frosted
dew, until the
sun cuts
through
and they
emerge
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Inspired by the summer rainstorms growing up in Toronto