Succeeding weeks of rain, the air’s so clean
it slaps my cheeks and soothing coats my throat.
I’m walking to the Metro, and the scene
is gentle as a promenade. I float
on foot through color, like an antidote
to mudslides, teeming gutters, trees that could
no longer clutch the liquid earth. I note
no threat or peril in this neighborhood.

(Huitain)