The hissing kiss of tires on the street
is first announcer that the rain’s begun,
and then the runoff fuels the creek to meet
the thickened sky that gray surrounds the sun.
I witness winddrifts – red and yellow leaves
that clump in soggy sidewalk-staining piles,
redwood fences rain-stained, dripping eaves,
and drivers geared for slicks and traffic trials.

Now sunshine leaks a little in the east –
there’s golden glowing outward under glower.
We’re cloud-depressed but weathering at least,
and here’s an image like a foul flower:
An ashtray, common glass and overflowing,
with dirty speckled filter petals showing.