Monday, September 30, 2013

last day of september poem

The lucidity of rain

And now the rains have come.
Every time we step outside,
the sky sobs.

Walking from the restaurant to the car,
rain spills down your jacket
and into the pockets of your jeans.

And I, carrying a sensitivity especially sharp
after the second glass of wine,
feel envious of the lucidity of rain.

How clever, the unruliness of this world.
For hours after you leave, your pockets
will remain damp, but not soiled.

A way to hold on
only water knows. 

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