City Rain*

Rain will not grow

Flowers in the gravel

Nor wheat in the sidewalk cracks.

 

The dirty feet of children

Slapping against the dirty floor

Bringing roars of challenge

From a curler-headed woman

Some days known as mother.

 

A hungry man

Staring mutely through the window

Water making patterns on oil slick streets.

His children can’t eat rainbows.

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