Rain...

by Shruti   Apr 12, 2017


12/04/2017
Friday night -
I traced my path down the grey street.
Flip flops, wet...
as I stepped on puddles,
my sight followed the skittering water drops...
and met the black sky.

"Rain."
I whispered.
"Rain on me...please."

I waited,
as the spring air blew past
with the softest touch.
Do you know?
...it carried your scent.
And as I breathed,
I lost myself.

The street lights hazed away...
the voices faded...
And thoughts came flooding
like tears.
They told tales of tomorrow...
while I waited...for the rain.

A wet drop fell on a puddle.
And I waited...

It was a Friday night.
And I lost myself
as I waited...

...and it never rained.

8


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Latest Comments

  • 12 hours ago

    by BlueJay

    Judging Comment:

    Such beautiful imagery in this piece allows for readers to take in so many ways. And the idea of rain has this symbolism that encourages people to read this piece time and time again for new meanings. The voice in this is gentle but also sorrowful, but elegantly done, not just over done the rain represents tears sort of pain and sadness. For a relatively simple piece, this is graceful and well penned.

  • 2 days ago

    by Sai

    What I got from this poem was this magnificent feeling of hope that trickled into disappointment. The transition is something that's not easily achieved but you did so here with the use of vivid details and a peek of the speaker's thoughts here and there.

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Em

    Awesome!

    • 2 weeks ago

      by Shruti

      Thank you both. :)

  • 2 months ago

    by Winnie

    Wow! This is beautiful. Congo!:)

  • 2 months ago

    by Winnie

    Wow! This is really nice. Congo!:)

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