Winter rain washes away
My strongest feelings tonight
This place where water has
No place to go
Even in the dark I know
The mountains support low clouds
Earth loosens, falls, obeys gravity
And I feel like a sand painting
Dispersed, art once, now gone
Looking for the ocean, waiting in line
Fine grains of many colors
Would have been safer in a dusty clay jar
On a high shelf, forgotten
Where someone else would have put it
But no, primitive art in bold strokes
For all to see, and yet
No risk
The rain will stop and even L.A. will be green
For a while
feeling will return
Perhaps in a drier place.