RAIN

Rainy summer afternoons in the land of flowers,
where pink flamingos prance across the grass,
cats lurk beneath the stilted houses of our peaceful street.

Thank you Creator for the mercy of rain,
washing clean a hundred shades of green
no artist could create,
cooling down the desperate, sweaty bodies of the poor.

In the woods homeless people naked stand,
scrubbing head-to-toe with bars of soap.
"Thank you Jesus!  Thank you Jesus for the rain."

T-shirts washed and hung from trees
that will not fall on them today.