The poem opens with a quiet night scene. We're asleep, tires hiss over wet streets, and the rain rinses the day off the pavement. It's a picture of the world cleaning itself, wiping away whatever happened and leaving a blank surface behind. The long, drifting first sentence feels like that rain: steady, soft, a little sleepy.
Then the poem turns. "Even though" at the start sets up a contrast, and the single line that follows shows what the speaker really wants: for the heart to be an amnesiac, to forget. The word "still" suggests this wish keeps coming back, even when the world seems to offer a fresh start. The speaker seems to be carrying something painful that a washed street can't fix, though the poem never says what it is. The mood is wistful and tired, with a faint ache underneath. Rain can clear the pavement, but the heart is harder to clear, and the speaker would like it to be easier.