Jewels on the bay top?

 

It is a prickly rain

That sprays here from Newark Bay

This early June

 

Cold even

In a season meant for warmth

No real excuse

Just testimony

On the weatherman’s chart.

 

Each sharp drop

Stabbing my face

As I walk against the wind

 

Up and then down

The asphalt walk,

Then onto the muddy path

Where sleepy early morning

Citizens nod as they pass

 

Dawn breaks over

The rippled edge of former factories

A hint of red

And then an explosion

Painting the edge of cloud

With suggestion of light

The day is yet unwilling

To reveal.

 

No warmth,

Just continued rain

And me lingering over

The rail and the rock

Search the water for

Signs of life

Bit of light flicking

On the rough water

Like cut diamonds

 

Lost in an instant

As the storm batters

Down the surface

Me, searching for

The jewels lost

Even as I move on

Each puddle filled

Not with hope

But with continued

Illusions.