Awning drips rain
that has not yet greeted the ground.
Water slithers toward drains.
It’s voice echoes,
an alleyway appears.
Rain comes like horse hooves clomping.
Small slivers of the ground
not yet wet.
Helpless little leaves,
ripped away from their branches.
And fall into puddles to drown.
The world is blurred by rain.
Dark and cold
but I’m filled with light.
-
Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: December 21st, 2017 22:25
- Category: Nature
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments3
Refreshing was the word that came to mind - enjoyed this write M E M
A great last line that made me see the whole poem in a different way, more positive!
Great writing, M.E.M.!
I like the rain,
I like this poem
Well done.
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