Rain drizzles into the mudMy shoes, wet, ladenHeavy on my feet The mailbox, gray, waitingIts laughing maw emptyMy heart is heavy with the dark cloudsWind shoves me as if to Throw me into the mireAnd thunder echoes my lonely thoughtsNo one to help me clean the mudFrom my legs, my shoesNo one to see the water drippingMixing with the red mud as itFalls on the matI wring out my hair like so much laundryWash the mat cleanWash my shoes cleanThen I leave the wet shoes on the porchSilent guardians while I find dryness But not for my face.