42.

Rain pulls the green from the young shoot and she rejoices to see it. Rain makes them wet & plump. Rain deadens and dances the incessant noise. Rain washes everything: people, the streets, glass. It washes down two alleys at work & home.

Rain goes down to the river. Rain goes down to the sea. Rain carves a path. Rain a funnel and conduit. Rain finding a way. Rain goes through, goes under, goes around, always ever in the same direction. Rain a constant. Rain fights and hammers. Rain is the loudest of weathers. Rain tells her to go inside. To stay there. Rain reminds her of the weight of even small things. Aide-mémoire, understanding. Rain niggles and invites and at the last mirrors.

Rain fills up the reservoirs. Rain raises the level. Rain gives her what she can take. And then some. Rain is a creek carving squiggle into the loam. A rivulet. Rain changes things. Nothing is as it was after rain.