burnt toast
no matter what I do
the rain seeps in
Tag: rain
Clouds building outside
Heralding a thunderstorm
My cube grows smaller
Falling rain,
the priest kneels before an empty altar.
a solitary bird calls to the space between lightning and thunder
my colleague
flirting with the workmen
. . . endless summer rain
rain in the puddle—
I have nothing to give
to the street musicians
rain
curtain
of absences
leaving the Tokyo subway,
a hundred umbrellas
rise in unison
on a bare twig rain beads what light there is
drizzle and mud—
sparrows sinking deeper
into drab
this delicate rain
the petal makes a typo
of a gravestone date
long summer
the smell of rain
new again
falling rain
grandma goes upstairs
step-step
west wind
the rain arrives
without you
thunder
at the bus stop
the posture of rain
rainfall
a feather on the pond
changes course
waltzing matilda two beats ahead of the rain
The many notes
of the falling rain,
all in tune.
Photo by Adiel Gardner, Poem by Don Wentworth
The poem was previously published in “Past
soundless —
the rain falls from
flower to moss