Chai tea and economics--
there's just something intriguing about rainy afternoons.
Sipping sugar with a spoon.
Puddles present laughable comics
and people splish and splash
and get splashed by passing cars.
A flash of joy in a passing smile,
dash and dodge the raindrops.
The child crawls before he walks
and talks before he sings.
Windows cracked
and buildings built with colonial styles.
Walking on bricks to stop
and window shop.
Buy books to store
in crannies and nooks,
dirty shoes and wet socks.

Prickleberries slop.
Puddles of mud and pockets of rain.
Crunch.
Orange carrots and care for the poor
and destitute.
Coffee cups and pizza
tumble toward the edge.
Thin lines
words between vines
that crawl among rhymes.
Letters grow
like thunder.
Lighting lashes the horizon.
Teacups and sugar.
Spoons that swoon
and swing on trees.
Remember remember.
Ice.
Crystals that crack
and necks that crane
and look for love among lust.
Sweetness on the brink
of steel.
Still sparkles linger.
Crash.
Darkness collects.
Wings stretch.
Statues saturate.
And stillness survives.