"Vinyl Raingear" by David Blair

With all these feathering maple flowers and oaks, this driving the streetshas all the eventual bad health of hillbilly music or the French New Waveas some watery Cambridge people in sudden parks have shed their Talbotsand Anne Bradstreet straight lines and fleecy bundles for sundressesand low-riders to show their fire-fangled tattoos on lower bare backsrule Britannia, rule the waves. In the middle there is this light-splashed tangof the street with the bus not there yet.The next day is a sad one,it's winter again. Some people are to their sandals as some hikersare to bad weather in the mountains: caught out. The rain whips up.Umbrellas gleam over pedestrians in and out of the bakery with aspirationsand daughters or nieces or kid sisters able to hold two light items in a bag, no more—Seaside lady traveling with your ward from the Foodmaster, bring me to your Foodmaster.