Rain falls

William Hromada

Rain falls

like forgotten promises—

soft at first,

then insistent,

drumming on the roof

until the whole house

leans into its rhythm.

I watch it streak the window,

each drop a tiny ghost

of yesterday’s argument,

or the laugh we never finished.

Outside, the streetlamp flickers—

a wet halo,

a bruise of light.

Inside, silence

grows louder than thunder.

Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Beautiful wording in this poem "bruise of light" a combination that I wish I had thought of. Beautiful a fave.

    • William Hromada

      Thank you for your comment and fav

      • sorenbarrett

        You are most welcome William

      • rebellion_in_sanity

        Stunning poem. Especially loved "until the whole house
        leans into its rhythm."



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