The rain poured down
through the trees
bounced
off the ledges and the leaves;
rain always seems foreign here
like us
in this house,
watching the drops drip
and then turn to mist.
As it rained
on the other side of the city
he sat in the hospital after an attack:
being black in Africa is
Somehow foreign too.
A pie bakes brown
the dog barks
the TV speaks in an unfamiliar tongue
and we still don’t know how to feel
about rain in the desert.
Painting Courtesy of Our Featured Artist Fahed Mohammed Shehab
