The Artist

The doors to the double storey mansion slammed open, flooding the courtyard with a warm glow. A tall, lean silhouette emerged from inside. A large sack was slung over his left shoulder and he carried a shovel in his arms. A loud rumble from above made him glance skyward. Dark, heavy clouds were filling the moonless sky.

Chitter

Cockroaches.
Scuttling along the floor,
Up the wall and down again,
Six legged monstrosities,
Flying in our faces, eating all our trash.

Trickle

Trickle little drop of rain

Dancing on my window pane,

      Trickle slowly down the glass
      Till at last the sill you pass,
Trickle down the wall below
Conceived of sky of indigo,
      Trickle down into the earth
      Quench its thirst and promise birth.