Lays Down

so often
told you, am
just that presence being rained on

I felt so happy when I opened my umbrella this morning
to that newspaper ink smell
layered in the trenches
at the far ends of my hands

leaps 
from crying closed insides

into the curves of falling dots
onto puddles I am
scribbling
just by looking at the shadows
hanging underneath.

to their heads, rushes
to consider whether
to miss life's buses.