Rain Étude

COHORT 5

All day the rivering of water in the gutters

keeps rushing the outsides 

of the house,

tracing a channel through a litter of dead leaves.

In its falling it is as constant 

and inevitable

as the cycle of clouds overhead, the cycle of news,

the gothic cast of gloom

over the spires

and crenellations of the towers midtown, the radio

antenna, hovering thick as

static, radio fog—

the rain gusting, unexpected, then ballooning out

through a bedsheet on a line—

falling, as it had to, 

over and over. Rain like piano notes, rising and

falling, thin patter on the roof, 

slaking the tiles,

and below a face, pale white, pressed to the glass—

and the water comes up

to greet me

Writing: Eliza Browning

Music: Stephanie Yen

Art: Helen Mak