August Rain
The rain falls
utterly without drama,
gentle, enough to hear if you leave the windows
open,
easy to miss should you close them.
There is no thunder in it.
No wild winds or flashes of lightning,
simply a steady falling,
hours of it.
Stay long enough
and the darkness will seep in
like rain on a summer field.
About this poem.
Last night I spent the evening reading on my front porch. A gentle rain fell for hours. It grew dark, and so did I. Nothing to worry about, a simple melancholy, come and gone with the rain.
Tom
Quarry House 