Tuesday, 05 September 2017 10:17

Walking in the Rain Featured

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Walking in the Rain

High up on the misty ridge

I lean into the punch of wind,

the cut of horizontal rain.

 

Over grey-green, restless waves

eiderdowns of sodden cloud unroll,

sagging with the weight of rain.

 

A wet September Sunday.

The cool, sweet juice of blackberries

picked and eaten in the rain.

 

On leaf and thorn and fruit

trembling globes of light suspended.

Shiny, fragile pearls of rain.

 

Such words as these condense

as droplets falling out of cloud

to the rhythm of the rain.

 

To the rhythm of my steps

through long, wet grass, over hard stone,

these words, falling down like rain.

Read 92 times Last modified on Tuesday, 05 September 2017 10:19
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