Chandelier Skies

Floodlights fill up the street,
the rain now visible as a gash

is visible on a clear complexion.
Little freckles descend into pools.

A worm burrows deeper into
its sheets of dirt, unaffected.

Likewise I light a cigarette
and stand on the cleared-out

patio, making muddied notes.
A droplet clings to the end of

my hair, a pendant hanging
off a furious bushel of hay.

I tried suspending it, making
it last, tethering me to the

downpour, but the magic of it
left, failing to catch it as it falls.