!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Boy Running in the Rain… by T. Wignesan/title> /div> div itemprop=”genre” id=”content”> p>His face swinging from ear to earbr /> A bemused smile lighting upbr /> His gander gaitbr /> Under the burlap mop /p> p> Who’s looking at mebr /> Why is everyone looking at my legs /p> p> His mother telling him to be back this summerbr /> Before the green peacocks turn to Indian bluebr /> Droplets big as his nightshade eyes bursting at eachbr /> swan step /p> p>Boy on an errandbr /> The stealthy guilt-ridden leaves of the lindenbr /> Motionless in the metallic green boiling flood /p> p>Boy still running in the rainbr /> How old am Ibr /> As old as the linden when it was eightbr /> Where are the caterwauling magpies this daybr /> None to mock me in my gait /p> p>He thinks he’s running in the still hot rainbr /> But the cars and trucks along the road showerbr /> In their mindless manic main /p> p>Wait till you see my master drive me proudbr /> Over the bridges under high-voltaging cablesbr /> My throat loosening up in coughs and cursesbr /> The mud drained from my tired gables /p> p>Boy still keeps running in the rain /p> p>When will the summer endbr /> When the cotton sky turns to lead /p> p>Or when the boy stops running in the rain /p> br> /body> /html>

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