That Kind of Rain

It rained that day,

that kind of rain

when puddles rattle all day long

with drops that sting like buckshot;

when tires slick by,

kick spray into your face;

when all the cans in shabby alleys

overflow with trash so wet

it dissolves each time

you try to pick it up; when all the news

in papers blown down avenues

where rich folk live

is bad. The kind that presses you

to almost give up hope that maybe

once this afternoon

the sun will shine in woods,

a breeze will sing in words

and thoughtful sentences,

and each new day will hold

more than a foothold

on a speeding truck, more than

a search for shelter from the rain.

For Echol Cole and Robert Walker, sanitation workers killed in Memphis, February 1, 1968, prompting a visit by Martin Luther King.

About the author

David Salner’s latest poetry collection is The Stillness of Certain Valleys (Broadstone Books, 2019). His stories and poems have appeared in many journals including Threepenny Review, Ploughshares, Beloit Poetry Journal, Carve, and The Moth (U.K.). His first novel, A Place to Hide, will appear in 2021. He worked as iron ore miner, steelworker, machinist; now as librarian.

Visit his website at www.DSalner.wix.com/salner