Arrows of Rain

To hang on a wall of my empty room,

I think I will need a picture of rain.


Hitting the ground, and springing up to ankles,

Rain wets the socks and trousers from below.


My eyes chase along

Roof-edges, streets, sidewalks,


--tick, tick, tick--


Checking all, one by one,

To find a dark brolly,


And a woman in black enamel shoes,

Lightly treading the watery pavement,


And behind dropping her dancing-like steps

In the bouncing V's of endless raindrops.


I will be then watching the rain's arrows

Countlessly stick into my vacant heart:


For sometimes deadly pains

Awake love from deep sleep.



◄ The Poor Little Dove

From the Garden of Afternoon ►


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Michael Kwack

Sat 27th Jun 2020 17:28

Dawning? Then I must think of rising. Perhaps I turned in too late though. Thank you for alarming, Po.

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Michael Kwack

Sat 27th Jun 2020 15:52

Thank you indeed, Po, for the sympathetic comment---
an awakening to sort of poetic sleepiness I've been in lately.

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