At Last The Sun 

The storm raged still

But there was shelter

Every raindrop a tear,

A cry

Louder and louder

Until there was nothing else.

Then there

A tiny spot of hope

Yes, at last the sun

Peeking through the clouds.

Paolo Driussi

Rome, Spanish Steps.

 In the pouring  rain on a cold dank night,

Black umbrellas darted here, there;

Trench coats' drenched sleeves, hems,

Trousers and shoes soaked in the pour

A blood curdling scream was heard ten stoops away.

Someone hedged swiftly into the dreary night

Running stealthily 

Toward his planned goal.

 

The policemen came, sealed off the area,

Ambulance siren screeched to the rescue

But too late, the young  man

Had already gone.

 

A passersby was  saying:

"He wore a brown leather jacket and blue jeans,

Blood dripped from his right hand".

 

The policemen began to inspect the scene.

A white line was drawn around that young man's body.

Paolo Driussi.