Sun Shower
The sun showers down Delancey Street.
I pull my hood up and look to the sky, remember my mother’s words,
There is a rainbow somewhere, even if you can’t see it.
I am not perfect, this day is not perfect, and one sun shower is never the solution to the things I carry with me to East Ninth Street every Tuesday,
So I remember how I am a mix of things that shouldn’t go together but somehow find a home,
The sun and the rain and the sky,
The beautiful promise that the world isn’t ending under my fingertips.
The sun showers down Delancey Street and I smile in its warmth and glow.