Rain pounded the window of the taxi, sending rivulets down the glass. It seemed as if the water absorbed the lights of the city around me, becoming something else, something new, something ethereal. Traffic was at a standstill, of course. Whenever I needed to get somewhere, traffic seemed to magically appear. I glanced up as lightning seared across the blackened heavens. My bad mood continued, though perhaps making it storm was a bit over the top. I breathed in deeply, willing myself into passable tranquility and watching the sky above follow suit.
Anguished leaves fall from above,
lamenting their golden finality.
Vines weave lace doilies on the
cracked sidewalk that groans with
the passing of feet over its surface.
Prosaic wind attempts an escape
into firmament, but finds itself
tangled into golden hair instead.