Walking In The Rain Poem by nathan martin

walking behind the others, beside the
others and beneath the others.

walking down a set of steps
with a hollow metal rail.

beside the rain beneath the clouds,
the ribs of the earth seem to become so
very clean and polished to me.

arthritic rust in an ancient unearthed
stoic form, aged in its mineral doctrine
speaks that not all is clay.

grasping the rail feeling the cold
reach in through my palm.

the metal feels so very whole to my
skin allowing me to break a little
inward and steady my self to look up.

the rain falls continually around me,
a little water in my eye scatters
the gray light.

i dont want to see much and i dont
feel the need to be comforted.

now i am cold in the moist daylight,
now i am translucient like a mist.

i am no longer turning slowly in this
world of corrosive half light.