Almost life-like
Blend­ing into the shad­ows
Creep­ing through the rain
Does this dark fig­urine
Enjoy the game he plays?
Flooded by lamp­light, the rain
Gen­tly glides over his enamel skin.
His jagged shadow flows into the gut­ter
Car­ry­ing with it a hint of his identity.

Lan­guish­ing nearby
A maple tree’s leaves quiver
For fear of his opaque pres­ence.
They attempt to still at his approach;
The rain mov­ing them even so,
A sting­ing reminder
That they can­not under­mine
The pow­ers of the elements.

Vainly uncon­cerned about being watched
The mys­te­ri­ous man’s pace
Remains excep­tion­ally slow and steady,
Never yeild­ing to the wind
And the rain howl­ing zeal­ously
Down the grim and oth­er­wise silent street.