Poofs and Hypes

================================================
Outside

A concrete corner's my new friend.
The corner sits at a corridor's bend --
A bit too far from the sweeping tree,
Too close to men to be truly free.
It patiently counts its youngish days
As shrub and earth go their own ways.
When rain falls, it shirks in fear;
Never before has it been near
To something that so freshly gives
To all that, like this corner, lives
Only when it's looked upon.
The rain then fills the muddy lawn;
Seeps through gravel, wets the leaf,
Gives the tired men relief;
Pools along the garden's end;
Splashes along my concrete friend
That, by now, is a steadfast bank
To muddied water in a fleeting tank
Where raindrops plop and plink and play
And make a tired student's day;
Rising to the rain and storm
So fresh and cold and yet so warm.
That corner called to colder rain,
To wetter, softer, older pain.
That corner, with its broken art
Took my thoughts, and took my heart.
================================================