Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Little Johnny wants play...
But the rain
does not go away
Lashing with horrorful
clock-tick rhythm of growing old
upon Johnny’s humid-sandy soil mansion
erected with so much profuse passion
and diligence
Washing irretrievably
in the implacable imperturbable patters
all this his dutifully tended Babel
away!
He so long has slumped
a torrent-stormed vegetable plant
at the rain-eroded site of his loftiest dream
tumbling in inconsolable wailing
Watching on
in such utter pathetic impotence
the dire on-drifting away of
even dream’s merest vestige in the rain
as though himself wholly rain-inured
that his bald begins yielding hairs
as helplessly as his deceased mansion
to the Rain’s ever relentless, all-preying
pattering
Where a glossy muddy pool
gathering now
by the conspired impact of the rain
and his tears
mirrors him a chilling vision
alone
of a fuddled face and sagging eyes
who have been grieving
really
a whole
lifetime!
