Monday, December 10, 2007
"A Cold Wet Night"
I went out for a walk in the rain last night. The air smelled of old leaves, and bus fumes. Ah late fall in the city. I was leaning against the Trump Tower looking up at the sky.
I like to watch the rain coming down from oblivion.
Ever noticed? It seems to appear just this side of the clouds. Snow is different you can clearly see it was part of the white sky, and had just broken off. Still rain has more character.
That sound it makes gurgle'n down the sewers. The hiss of tires on wet asphalt. Traffic lights, and the crimson butt end of old cars make'n their own christmas pagents. The way it mix's with the city's steam. Them clouds'a steam com'n out'a them tunnels beneath us.
So there I was just hang'n around watch'n the rain appear out of nowhere. 'From that dry, and empty well of souls I dream about.
...and they say there's no such thing as miracles.