Posted in Creative Writing, Dead, Emotions, Poetry, Weather, Writing

Rain

An attention seeker. 

Tapping on my roof with little hammers.
Tapp, tapp, tapping. Louder , louder , louder.

Bouncing downwards dripping on my forehead;cleansing my face in autumnal tears as the clouds cry ;  causing  makeup to peel from my face.

You shower me like a baby. Icy droplets shocking my skin like an angry lightning bolt.

Oh heavens how you weep;   grieving for your dead child. Instead washing squirrels tenderly, giggling as you watch them flitter from branch to branch. Taking away your pain.

Giving the rosehips a new coat of polish preparing them for human reflection. Oh rain you cause the mud to grow trapping wellington boots, dragging them into a murky grave.

And yet you still keep bouncing.

~SS

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s