Rain

rain1

Heavy rain:

Drip for the garden,

Drop for the lawn:

Drum roll for the garden,

Refreshing frogpaddle pond,

Falling future for

 Sun-parched ground.

I’m remembering a

Storm-hammered, crowded,

Noisy, light blue bus

Leaving a street market

In Yesterday’s-Gone,

No-Promise country;

A lover’s farewell:

“The skies cry,”

Biting back youngblood tears,

Biting passion-bruised lips,

“When good friends part.”

Drip for the past,

Drop for the present,

Drum-roll for the memory,

Reviving yesterday’s dancers,

Refreshing history’s dreams.

31/7/2013

Photo: www.newtopwallpaapers.com

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