cold, hard, metallic rain hasn’t stopped
falling in days-
so obviously different from the sounds
of summer’s thunder, warm and soft
to touch, full of breath and life;
now this piercing rain, uncompassionately
lands heavily upon this heart of mine,
each drop a reminder of distant pain,
hidden from sight, blackening the very
heart in which it clings…
hateful falling rain, tearing at the wounds
of time, mocking the very fabric
from which it stings-
there is no shelter from these sounds
of the past, echoed now within
the prickling drops pouring down
outside upon my windowsill