Rain Through Painted Glass

Thin scratch in the paint covered window

If I tilt my head

                more

                                more

                                                more

and squint

perhaps

I’ll see a raindrop

Before

I never thought about the sky

clouds and glitter in the dark

rain was a frowning slippery road to grumble at

torrents of elevated humidity and flood calling cards

leakstains in the corner above the door

Before

I never thought about the wind

knocking down branches and rooftops

now blue tarp covered wrecks

rare scattered days of open windows

low drone of the neighbor’s motorbike

Before

I never thought about the rancid heat

killing new plants and inciting passions

even when the only passion is the next fix

sweat soaked shirts peeled off in the shower

like orange skins dry scent rising

But now all I have is

Time

to think

and squint at the scratch

in the painted over window.