Torrent

Out here as storms go
it typically only rains harder.
The cars slide by in shallow water,
while the morning moon
stays hidden in the sky.

The evening destined
to contain fraying clouds
saunters forward toward
the city, but remains
a long way off.

Trees bend like twigs
and branches reach
for nothing.
Wires spin suspended
between spires
of emaciated wood.

A man wakes from his
place beneath the overpass
to the sound of all the torrent
and steps out into it,
while looking up,
feeling cleaner now
than he has felt
in days.