Rainy day
Graveyard:
Green grass
Glistens
Between row on row
Of low gravestones.
Droplets dash
Against the marble
And against
The brass plaques --
Silently.
Though a steady patter
Of drips on leaves
Sings through.
A poncho-clad figure
Walks through the
Sprawling war memorial ---
Alone.
a tiny frog
on a rain-soaked leaf,
washed away, leaf-n-all.
The ocean vast
closes in.
Clouds drop.
If the horizon still exists,
it's behind an approaching
wall of gray.
Whatever is closing down
the world has also
drained it of color.
The shadows are black.
The sea foam is white.
Everything else is
some dim, earthy tone.
The sea may have retained
a hint of green or blue,
but it's hard to tell --
so darkened &
gray-infused
are the waters.
I fear the world may shrink
to a dot, like an old timey TV
snapped off, a dot that's
bright white but cold.
A turned field on a cloudy day. A clapboard shack, with threat of rain. Oh, it's so dark and gloomy - a rickety roost, not so roomy. Staring out the window, wondering: was that sound grumble or thundering? Grumble of stomach, thunder of sky? And I can't see out this bad eye.
a rainy day. we pull over the car, and get out to look at the waterfall, up close: what's spray & what's rain?
a steady rain patters into puddles far below i close my eyes, listening for a pattern but it's chaotic - a random rhythm that tugs at my eyelids, lulling me into a dull state of mind
Tiger Riding for Beginners 