Rain is falling
Hard and measured
Dancing on the kerb
Clumsy in its harshness
Heavy footed
Quite disturbed.
The day has lost memory
Finds no need to name
As that battering
Of droplets
Seems more like tears
Not rain.
The gutter a river
Twisting, turning, stout
Committing suicide
In the drains
When in
No way out.
It leaves
No bleeding note
No declaration
Or threat
Merely fell
Without regret.
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Author:
nephilim56 (
Online) - Published: April 10th, 2025 01:36
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 46
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, sorenbarrett, Lorenz, Ellen Marsell, xqw
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Comments4
Dang! I cherish rain, have long seen it even as you say, as tears, yet never thought of it in such a miserable case. Fascinating. Beautifully rendered in tasteful simplicity, eloquent with excellent imagery, what a haunting, sorrowful poignancy it owns. Thank you for sharing.
very kind words, much appreciated thanking you
Tears that fell with no regret, I like that, a lovely and enjoyable read
thanking you
You are very welcome
The staggered, irregular, near rhyme with the meter in this poem simulated drops of rain for me. Well worded with its twists and turns it seems rivulets of rain. A fave
much appreciated thanks
The melancholy melody of rain falling on the window...
it lives within its own mystery, thanks for comment
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