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.
-
Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2026 16:41
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Beautiful wording in this poem "bruise of light" a combination that I wish I had thought of. Beautiful a fave.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.