But The Rain Still Asks

Noveyre

And the rain writhes down 

in convulsions, whipping 'round 

and sometimes sideways 

in confusion- never knowing 

like liquid questions 

falling from their thoughtful clouds 

to any answer below them? 

 

But really, they ponder themselves to puddles. 

It's vagueness defined: 

waters and wonderings 

with all reply left unsaid- 

 

But the rain still asks, no doubt or gloom 

when answers won't appear in the brume 

It's curious, as it must- 

forgive it that it falls: 

it knows not how to fly 

but it does, but it does!

  • Author: Noveyre (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 20th, 2018 20:36
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 26
  • Users favorite of this poem: Lorna
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Lorna

    Such great lines in this poem - "ponder themselves to puddles"...... brilliant!



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