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L.A. rain L.A. in the rain - Wait for me here, the streets' rush slowed to a crawl, diamond-specked drizzle trapped in the amber of streetlights, drenched figures in makeshift attire, adapt in the face of their novel experience. Her northern sisters laugh at her panic, envy the rush of forty days' and nights' frenzy consumed in a day, so undisciplined, so much like her, as nature, carefully bounded, unfurls in brief chaos. Bright waterfalls the colors of concrete and earth, rivers bounded by curbs, buildings weep their bleached dust, reflections run in the unstopped passion of hillsides' gorged torrents, tousled palm trees bow to torn gray, the seasonal curtain drawn by her estranged ocean. © Jon Bohrn (2000) |
