This time,
We played baseball,
A Sunday routine sprawled under cool gray skies,
In the grassy corners between brick buildings,
Backway into downtown.
Effervescent afternoons,
Mingled in fantastic stories of love and laughter,
Pushing away the winds,
Stalking crosswalks
And small, empty places.
Company, sometimes, on the way to cheap drinks,
Rattle of ice,
A creaking barroom door,
While glitter rains down from the sky.
Shaken Rain 