The rain children

by Phillippa Yaa De Villiers

They permeate, the poor, their eyes and knees
as thin as rain, these children staring,
as democracy parades through the streets.

Glue substitutes for blankets and teats,
the streetmother grey concrete skirt uncaring:
they permeate, the poor, their eyes and knees

and hands reproach, demand, confront, entreat:
tightly walleted, my conscience, and unsparing
as democracy parades through the streets.

Rain fills my well-fed stomach. All my feats
are washed away with soul’s comparing:
they permeate, the poor, their eyes and knees

as cold as sorrow. Presidents decree
but rain soaks paper promises, tearing,
as democracy parades through the streets.

Like driving drops or drizzle, paring
warmth from skin, dissolving, wearing:
they permeate, the poor, their eyes and knees,
as democracy parades through the streets