Small drops accumulate,
make puddles
make music, Staccato
Clouds roll across plate glass windows
as afternoon pulls the shade down
to
Early evening
Uneven crowds huddle under
mismatched black umbrellas
walking briskly to their cars
Moving in a line of
dark windshields,
clicking wipers
Restless and impatient under
red traffic lights
blurry, circled with fog