Rapid Rapid,

the drenched dark concrete
the world of buildings crumbling

rain-soaked trunks of trees
fell by the sway of spectres

and the swollen flesh of wood
drank in wetness

absorbed the insistence
of the wind's touch

and after having waited in
hesitating calm the sky

unfolded and exacted on
its spectators: you and I

the dull fear of blindness
that I to you and you to me--

unseen but by the light of streetlamps
reflected off the wind-torn pitch

we sigh not of chagrin but of exhaustion
of release

look -- there's nothing blue between here
and the lights across the bay

only the oily black into which we dive.