In sweeping rain
he was swept through streets
in a taxi turning with thoughts
he had not yet learned to express.
Windows can shield
from more than just the weather.
In unswept rain
he was sweeping through streets
that had not yet soaked him,
had not yet drained him
on the storms that were settling
under the shade of summer.
He was a spring in the bloom
in the shadow of a back seat,
speeding through streets
already stained with too many winters.
All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly