Cars fly by, red brown smears against tarmac.
Each drop of rain mirrors the other
as they strike the glassy surface of puddles.
A steady flow of the river's soul
filtered like blood through capillaries -
nimbus born of seas and estuaries,
grown from babbling streams.
The rain will fall.
Drops slip along my nose.
A flow seeding jacket zip with a river of drips,
dumping unceremoniously on jeans.
The rain spit-spots a lizard skin pattern on denim.
Each puddle splashes, soaking my shin,
with the spin of bike tyres.
Students hand out flyers,
protesting a picket line outside the union.
The morning light...
the bustle of human motion in flow.
Passing, silent in noise.
Still, in motion.
https://soundcloud.com/rowan-joyce/the-rain-will-flow?si=23e03eee7ae946309657c24ca9bf872c
Image by The various media used in the poetry reading are all from CC licence sources: links to credit:
Music: Space ambient mix4 by Almusic34
Title picture: by Viacheslav Bida on Unsplash
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