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poetry

Rain

After years of rain, the gray hangs in the air,
lingers on the skin.

Everyone likes when the grass seems green.

A slow swirl overtakes the blades,
creeps up the ankles.

The ins and outs of parking lots distracts.

In an old window, I catch a glimpse.
Then you fade.

Water continues to rise,
climbs the thighs, the chest.
I run to save the lovely breath.

One cannot run underwater.

4 replies on “Rain”

Hi Kerri

Gorgeously poignant and a poem that haunts! There is always something spiritually cleansing and reflective about rain. It washes over us and with that, so does the baptism of memory. Here, I sense the narrator recalls a special person and tries to preserves that memory/feeling –knowing it is impossible to retain. The lines in this one haunt with their lyrical intensity. These lines penetrate deeply, so moving and so movingly voiced —

In an old window, I catch a glimpse.
Then you fade.

Water continues to rise,
climbs the thighs, the chest.
I run to save the lovely breath.

One cannot run underwater.

Thank you for sharing this one!
Happy New Year
Wendy

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