It rained here all night
and most of the morning as well
in whatever cliché you choose
to use for an apt description.
It came down off the roofs
in waterfalls and ran down
the driveway onto the streets.
It soaked the grass clear
up to the back door.
It collected in small ponds
at intersections, stalling cars;
flooded all the low lying areas
which was everywhere.
It rains like that all the time now.
It’s soaking the soil, ruining the crop
No one wants to say climate change.
No one seems to say anything true anymore.
I wonder if it rained in Manchester?
And it did, but not in the way
we would think or want
with people pouring out
onto the empty streets in panic.
I saw tears streaming down
a woman’s once beautiful face.
It really rains all the time nowadays
And no one wants to say what it is.
Richard K. Ostrander resides in the Carolinas and the interstitial spaces of thought and desire, white space between words and letters. He has two books, "The Epic of Hell Freeze" and "The Metaphysician's Daughter" both published by BlazeVOX books.