the drainpipes

A moment of stillness and calm,
so welcome a companion
sailing in on the last breathe of a warm August afternoon
through the half-open kitchen window.

Down below
the grass boasts green at an otherwise indifferent skyline,
celebrating recent rain with a symphony of drainpipes.

Daylight takes its final curtain call and heads west.

So the light left
and with it the evenings inspiration,
following my cathartic contentment out of the window,
down the garden path,
and into the shadowy streets below.

Just in time for darkness
my pen squeezed out one last poem,
devoid of structure or rhyme,
the contents sketchy at best.