rain
Rain V
I am comforted, drawn to the sounds of rainfall that echo our loss.
The Rose Upon My Desk II
Enveloped in prose, A petal lands with a tick. Nature’s clock keeps time.
The Rose Upon My Desk
The slow-ticking hand. Each falling leaf and petal Returns me to this.
Swan
An angel’s wing or snow-draped leaf, she drifts downstream, slipping beneath me.
Sycamore
sycamore leaf that waits on my pedal: a note? or are you resting?
Rain IV
Why run from the rain? Do you hear the earth complain? Or the plants or fish?
Rain III
As far as my ears can reach, i hear them murmur. Too many voices.
Rain I
Each drop promises a rhythm. But by thousands they become a blur.
Rain II
‘rat-a-tat!’ they drum: the sound of a million fingers of water.