Walking in the Rain in North Hollywood

On an urban hike I happened by these

cottages with sunlight and fae catched!

With bricks laden with vines but roof’s unthatch’d,

and bushes and brambles in between trees.

To be outside when everyone is in,

hiding from some meandering raindrops.

As someone else’s gravel cracks and pops,

my boots become a storm-harbinger’s din.

For a brief moment those houses were mine,

and my thoughts were asphalt under moss--

my body the uneven sidewalk tossed

asunder from the blackened roots and vines.

Well, the fairies get to keep their houses

in their hard-bought perennial summer.

They don’t have a mind to wonder

what pleasure there could be in rain-kisses.

If they only knew what that pleasure meant,

and the riches hidden under the mud.

They’d salivate for my harbinger blood

to pair with autumn leaves on their cement.

It’d be fair recompense for what I stole–

that stinging dew they never knew.

I’d happily accept my devil’s due,

I do not need my body to be whole.

Let the sun ripen my skin into a hide

and take my bones to build fairy houses!

There’s inclement weather, and time marches,

And lo, it may be best to go inside.

Yes, the sun must have watched with disdain

as I lost myself in suburban rain.