silverrevolver

I'm in a strange mood. It's raining, the harvest's dust and the ash from the many brush fires is all falling from the air, the buildings and being washed into the gutter. When I was in California I always used to weep a little the first time it rained at the end of summer. It felt like a great cleansing, I also felt that I could have just as easily been washed down the gutter with the rest of the dry filth. I feel a bit like that now. The shutters are all still open and I see a couple standing in the lighted window above me, they are watching the rain as well.

Newness aside, there are times when a man just wants a hug from someone who knows him, really knows him.

The handful of people who do are all out of reach.

After a night like this I always wake up cleansed too, just like the streets I have alwas been a part of.