Raining in Paris

raining in Paris, Prague, London and Rome,
whitish fog builds like a ghost round the Eiffel Tower,
mirror-coated skyscrapers, every ancient bower—
earth against earth, chrome against chrome.
the storm circles and circles darkly every home,
cold rain on the glass as I stand in the steamy shower
or gargle in the bath at the appointed hour;
nourish the flowers, the soil and loam.
raining in Mumbai, Cairo, Timbuktu,
raining in Derby, Leicester, Cleethorpes, Glasgow.
guard the canned food, hush, turn on the radio.
it rains. I weep, wearing pink pointe shoes.
place your ear against the soaked and muddy ground:
the sense must always be an echo to the sound.