rain and hail.
the flood's higher,
muds thicker.
feet are soaked with filth.
i need to dry myself,
and be dressed.
the sun stretched its arms.
beaming and glowing
just for me
i look above,
to see if it is still raining.
slowly,
the sun washed the rain away.
i look for a stream.
to wash
i feel different
and happy
by this warmth
the sun kept me going.
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __
