Low-lit corners give way
To a light, persistent rain
Warmed over with bathtub gin and animation;
The spotted river a susurration
Of pleas not yet uttered,
A dance not yet beheld.
But Wednesday comes around
And the river swells anew:
Today, its flow has twice been pushed under
For to spill and rend itself asunder
Wants once more to surge
And then to bloom.
And 8 o’clock is hard
When no greeting’s to be made,
And Wednesday came around and went again,
And, quite unbidden, the force that brought the rain
Got in its boat
And went along its way.