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Literature Text
She speaks to me
While I walk
Towards the coffee shop
She speaks to me
While I sit
In my vehicle
I'm listening
To the rain speak
Of elder glaciers, clouds, oceans
Most—
Umbrellas open
Run from her cold, gushy stories
Seeking the warmth of buildings or cars
Few—
Understand the raw wisdom
The beauty, the perfection
In each of her iron droplets
None—
Write of her exactly as I have
Now,
Does that mean I've understood her?
============================
COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker
All my work has copyrights
with the Library of Congress.
No usage without my permission
regardless of circumstance.
While I walk
Towards the coffee shop
She speaks to me
While I sit
In my vehicle
I'm listening
To the rain speak
Of elder glaciers, clouds, oceans
Most—
Umbrellas open
Run from her cold, gushy stories
Seeking the warmth of buildings or cars
Few—
Understand the raw wisdom
The beauty, the perfection
In each of her iron droplets
None—
Write of her exactly as I have
Now,
Does that mean I've understood her?
============================
COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker
All my work has copyrights
with the Library of Congress.
No usage without my permission
regardless of circumstance.
I've always adored the rain. I don't own an umbrella and never have. I don't see it as an inconvenience. I enjoy it every moment I can, especially in the fall when it brings with it nice, crisp breezes.
© 2011 - 2024 PursuingTheCerberus
Comments12
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That last question made me smile. Well done.