The poetry of waking up to rain is more elaborate than any alarm clock. Up on the rooftop raindrop paws. An ashen sky is wrapped in gauze. Strong fingers wearing diamond rings drum your windowpane. Voice of dawn sings soft and low and shakes a silver mane. This day is lovely, dark and deep, theatrically it feigns to weep. To reel you in with charms of seep, to steal you from the arms of sleep.
October 22, 2012