The beautiful rain falls, the unheeded angel
Lies in the street, spreadeagled under the footfall
That from the divine face wears away the smile

Whose tears run in the gutter, melting where
The stationary cars wait for departure;
The letter that says Ave is passed over,

For at the ever-present place the angel waits,
Passes through walls and hoardings, in dark porches
His face, wounded by us, for us and over us watches.