Rain-Swept

 These days the afternoons come adorned,

with a bouquet of fresh rain,

 

with solitude hanging

in huge, grey

coffee-cups of clouds,

 

you can see the sun, too, sometimes

dusting the waves

with golden mist

 

permeating the air

with a special kind of gloom,

 

no one can feel this pain

the way i do,

 

i share this moment of wonder

with a wild pigeon,

who lifts one thirsty wing

to the sky

 

and feel a sharp longing

to caress it in my hands

 

sometimes i don’t know, which moment

which cool gust of wind will come,

and enchant me

tousling my hair

and my heart,

 

stirring...that familiar ache of poetry,

 

which drop will kiss

the old wrench in my soul

 reminding me, all over again

i miss you better in the rain.  

Author's Note

For my missing pet pigeon ... in the rains, i feel his absence even more intensely.

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

As I read your words, I gazed out my computer room window and suddenly saw coffee cups in the clouds! You have a special way of expressing yourself, Sanober. When the breeze hits in just the right way, poetry is the natural result. I totally understand that. “I miss you better in the rain.” Now you KNOW I love that line! Somehow the rain allows us to feel sad...it is okay to feel loss or emptiness when the rain comes. What a poignant beauty of a write this is. It’s been too long since I read your words. Lydi**

[Sanober]

Yes my friend... you truly understand my words. even when i don't understand them myself. thank you for the most special words you always shower upon me.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Sanober... "a bouquet of fresh rain. ...
coffee-cups of clouds". I can feel the mist
upon my face standing by the seaside waves
touched with golden mist.
Sharing with a wild pigeon who lifts one
thirsty wing to the sky. Your poetry leaves me
with melancholy and wonder. truly ... Pat