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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact

"A Gentle Rain" by Joe DiMino

The pigeons are loud
This morning; pruning
And cooing—there has
Been a gentle rain
All night (eternal optimists,
Knowing the cleanse
Would come), survivors
Like rats and roaches;
Their nests under
Sooty eaves,
On precarious ledges—
Crumbs or vomit
Seems all a buffet
For now—

There has been a gentle rain:
Quieting more the steps back
Into daylight—like cats
The night feeders
And mere drifters
Finding their way home
From clubs
By alleys,
Their proper shoes
On the doorstep
Next to the paper—
Can you blame them?
Who has rioted?
Where have the bombs
The more killing
A creation too busy

There has been a gentle rain:
Flowers on sills in parks
Making color of the soot
And sins; from their places
In the soil
Appearing far more holy
Than any bipedal
Painted blossom
Or machine
With triple hard coat—
Man puffing out
Of his seams
Can do wonders
With anatomy
And things

Other than
The soul—

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